Black Lagoon: The Sinner
by Ricknarok
Summary: Despite the bloodshed and destruction of the last year and a half, Roanapur is once more in a state of relative undisturbed peace. The Dead Men are gone and the ruling factions are left to pick up the pieces. But there is still one issue that remains as the Wolf, Revy, Rock and three unwilling tagalongs are called to Venezuela once more... 'Standalone "City of Fire" Spin-Off.'
1. Author's Note

So, a lot of you are probably wondering what happened to The Sinner, huh? Well, don't worry. That particular story may have been discontinued. Or revised, perhaps, would be a more appropriate word. Just know that I haven't abandoned it altogether. I've scrapped a lot of ideas and even the original three chapters I wrote for it, but there is still a story in place, one I'm excited about.

I know I'm breaking my rule of '"Dead Men Tell No Tales" was the end of the series', but that is still technically the case. It's a fitting conclusion, in most ways, and a proper send-off for my series and characters. But in typical 'me' fashion, I can't seem to let go of Black Lagoon.

Just rest assured this will be handled respectfully and as smartly as possible. It's a new journey, one I hope you'll go on with me. Rest assured, _something_ is in the works, something I hope you'll all like.

You'll just have to wait and see what it is.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A New Order

That familiar smell of cigar smoke and alcohol filled Pius's nose as he gently pushed open the doors of the bar. He suspected those inside would immediately turn to look at him, given the less than spotless reputation of this particular bar's regular patrons. It wasn't often a priest frequented a bar on this side of town, after all. But nobody paid him any notice, save for the bartender. If the sound of voices was anything to go by, there was a meeting of some sort taking place. Indeed, as Pius crossed the threshold, he spotted six men with their backs to the door. Five of them wore different variations of the same tacky suit. Their hair, too, was greasy and untamed and they all seemed to sport jewellery. It looked as though five of the exact same man had been replicated and placed in random seats. The sixth man in the middle, cross-legged and sitting with his chin resting on his clasped hands, wore a uniform more befitting of a soldier. He was the one currently speaking. Across from these six degenerates sat a man who looked as out of place as ever. For starters, he, too, wore a suit, though it was blatantly of much higher quality. Its grey fabric was spotless and the white shirt beneath looked as though it had only just been washed. The man wearing said suit was clean shaven and had short, tidy hair. He looked up from the other men once Pius entered, smirking slightly before returning his gaze to where it had been moments earlier. Pius strolled up to the bar and adjusted his sunglasses before taking a seat not far from the apparent meeting that was taking place.

"You lost, Father?" the bartender asked. Pius knew who owned this bar. He also knew that five of the men at the table to his left had once been under their employment. The bartender was too, for that matter. They did not take kindly to strangers showing their faces here. Pius knew what kind of things happened to people so foolish. Then again, it seemed like there were more pressing matters to attend to than a nomadic priest stepping foot on their turf.

"Just passing through," he murmured, not looking up from the bar. The bartender glanced at his outfit, the priest's uniform.

"I've never seen you around before. You sure there aren't any other bars you'd rather drink at?" The question was worded amicably, but it had been asked in a tone that very much suggested Pius was not welcome here.

"I know your superiors wouldn't take kindly to you letting me stay here," he began. "You usually scare unwanted guests away, don't you? But I assure you, I'll be no trouble. All I ask is for one drink. Then I'll be on my way. You won't see me again." The bartender did not look convinced, though that seemingly hadn't angered him either. "Besides…considering those men over there haven't been thrown out yet, I'm guessing one more undesirable won't cause you any more grief." The man firmly placed his hands down on the bar and leaned in towards Pius.

"You've made your point. Now what are you having?" Pius wasn't sure that would actually work, but he did know that his earlier observation was correct. Those five men in tacky suits had once been subordinates of this bar's owner. Once. As of recently, they no longer answered to the cartel. By that logic, the bartender should not have allowed them to stay. And yet, they had apparently been allowed to stage an entire meeting without issue. Pius suspected the bartender had either been bribed to keep his mouth shut or he had been friends with some of those men. Nevertheless, he did not care that much. He would be allowed to remain providing he caused no trouble and kept to himself.

"Scotch," he answered finally. "Neat." Once the bartender left to get the drink, Pius focused on listening to what the other men were saying, the reason he was actually here. The bartender's intolerance had caused him to miss some of what had been said, but nothing too important, by the sounds of things.

"You've got balls," the man in military fatigues said then. He had apparently not noticed the priest yet. "I'll give you that. Credit where credit is due, huh? But what makes you think we're interested in this? You called us here, remember? I figured you'd actually have something to offer. We don't do people favours, pal." The man across from him adjusted his tie and smirked.

"As I've told you repeatedly Mister Hawke, my employer was adamant that we meet. He's been eager to approach you and your people with this matter. If you are willing to hear me out, I promise you…you won't regret it."

"I wish he'd make a fucking point already," one of the other men growled. That provoked chuckles from his friends. Except for this 'Hawke.' He was not amused by any of this, only impatient.

"I'm gonna have to share Raul's sentiment, friend," he said calmly. "Unless you pique my interest in the next three minutes, we're walking out that door. You do not want to find out what happens to people who waste our time." The man in the suit grew serious, then, and laid his hands down flat on the table. His movements were almost robotic, like he never knew how to sit or where to place his arms.

"I do apologise for what must seem like a waste of everyone's time," he told them. "Allow me to begin anew." The bartender returned and slammed the glass of scotch down in front of Pius before walking away without another word. "My name is Emmanuel. I represent a third party who has an interest in your organisation. My employer believes we can help one another. I have come to believe that there is someone you are hunting, is that not correct? A hunt, I might add, that your former employers have seen fit to abandon." The men fell silent at that. Emmanuel had apparently hit the nail on the head. Hawke lowered his hands and leaned forward in his seat.

"How the hell do you know that?"

"How I know it is of no importance here, I assure you," Emmanuel told him slyly. "What may interest you to know is that _my_ employer wishes to help you and your people with this endeavour." Hawke raised his eyebrows. He had clearly been expecting this to be a waste of time, but Emmanuel managed to tell him just enough to keep him interested.

"Your boss wants to help us take that maniac out?"

"That is correct. If I'm not mistaken, the Colombian cartel who, until very recently, gave your five companions their orders, have decided this individual is not worth pursuing anymore. You, however, are not someone I believe was ever associated with the cartel. I do not recognise your face, nor did the bartender when you arrived. So, the question remains, are you indeed a pawn of your target's former masters?"

"No," Hawke answered immediately. "I mean…I used to be. For a long time. But they've lost their way. Back in the day, they would have done anything to hunt one of their own down. You don't just leave. They're not exactly fans of loose ends. But they decided they'd rather fight a losing battle than focus on strengthening themselves. Even now, you think they tried to have me hunted down? No, 'course they didn't. Too much trouble." Emmanuel smiled widely. It seemed as though that was what he wanted to hear.

"I see. But you still want to see this hunt through to the end, don't you? Correct me if I'm wrong, but it was you who formed this new age hunting party, isn't it? A, how shall I put it, 'death-squad' dedicated to this endeavour." For the first time since Pius entered the bar, Hawke looked worried. Emmanuel's ramblings, for whatever reason, had him spooked. He didn't like this. Before, he was in control. Emmanuel's very life hung in the balance. His welfare depended on him making this meeting worthwhile. But now, Hawke seemed worried, even scared, of laying a finger on the man.

"You know a hell of a lot for some well-dressed stranger I'd never heard of before." There was only silence for a few seconds. That did nothing to ease the tension. "I formed the New Order. We came together because we shared a common goal. And our former masters were too chickenshit to do what it takes to survive in this world. But the hunt? That's only the start. The death of that stray dog is our main objective, but it doesn't end there. We will be remembered for our accomplishments." Emmanuel openly laughed at that, all the while looking as if his body was unfamiliar with the action. He was not derisive or even arrogant regarding Hawke's words. No, he was excited. Pius could tell by that glint in his eyes.

"Well said, indeed! I must say, this is shaping up to be a worthwhile proposition after all. But let us return to the task at hand." He grew quiet then, for just a moment. His eyes locked with Hawke's, he gave him that signature smirk once again before clasping his hands together in front of him and slouching forward. "Rosarita Cisneros. The Bloodhound of Florencia. Quite a formidable specimen of a woman. And your quarry in this hunt, as it turns out. Tell me, how much of a threat do you think she will be to you once you finally go after her?" The question seemed fairly standard at first, but Pius knew better. He knew Emmanuel possessed knowledge Hawke had clearly not been privy to. This would be an interesting revelation.

"You have no idea," Hawke said quietly, his voice almost cracking with anticipation. "She is the most fearsome killer on this planet, have no doubt. She was a legend, a myth. Some people thought she was a story our superiors used to tell us to keep us in line. I know my time as part of the F.A.R.C. was full of stories about her. But we're prepared to take her down. We've been preparing for this for almost a year now. We have a full combat unit ready to go, with several more being trained daily. Our plan is being formulated as we speak. When the time comes to execute it, the Bloodhound will die." Emmanuel was pink with glee. He clearly knew more about the Bloodhound than he was letting on. It seemed Hawke's plan would see the light of day earlier than expected.

"Well, that _is_ impressive. But I do find it an arbitrary oversight that you were never told just how over prepared you are." Hawke frowned at that.

"I'm not sure I understand what you're saying." Emmanuel chuckled.

"Oh, well, of course, allow me to fill you in. The maid barely survived her previous encounter with your old comrades, Mister Hawke."

"The way I heard it, that unit was never heard from again."

"Of course, you are correct," Emmanuel told him. "However, they managed to insert themselves into a very delicate situation. Rosarita, or Roberta, as she is known by her peers, was in pursuit of an American military team at the time. Needless to say, their training and combat prowess reduced Roberta to a shadow of her former self. It quite literally cost her an arm and a leg to wipe that unit out." He instantly erupted with laughter at his own joke before composing himself with unsettling urgency. "She has since come out of retirement, but it would happen that her encounters with several dangerous enemies since have effectively broken her. The Bloodhound is no more, I'm afraid. Only a frightened, neutered puppy just waiting for death." Hawke swallowed. Not only was he trying to make sense of the fact that he never knew about this, but the intensity and once again far-reaching knowledge of this Emmanuel were very unsettling.

"You're telling me-"

"Yes. Roberta has been wheelchair-bound for the better part of a month. She will struggle to put up a fight. The time to act is now, my new business partner. If Roberta is to die by your hand, I will need you to follow a very specific set of instructions. Instructions given to me by my employer."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Leave

"Hoo boy, look at that sun!" Revy's shrill voice was the first thing to reach Rock's ears as he emerged from below deck. The second was that familiar click as she cocked one of her Cutlasses and pointed it forward. A row of empty beer cans had been put in a line at the end of the Lagoon. "You ready to get your ass whooped, Dutch?" The leader of Lagoon Company looked far less enthusiastic about this than Revy, but he played along without protest. His Magnum in one hand and a beer in the other, he cocked the hammer and waited for her to begin.

"You're in a hell of a mood, I'll give you that," he told her blithely. "Fire away, then." Revy smiled from ear to ear and extended her arm, shutting one eye and looking down the length of the weapon with the other.

"Alright. You're about to see how real shooting is done." Rock had been momentarily blinded by the sunlight and almost walked right past the others. He stopped himself just in time, but Revy had apparently noticed him. She subtly cocked her head to the side before letting off a shot. The bullet crunched through the side of the can but hadn't hit it head on. The majority of it remained unharmed. "Ah, _shit!_ " Dutch seemed far too pleased.

"Well, that's too bad."

"Bullshit! Rock distracted me. Nice going, dickwad!" Rock wasn't sure why exactly he was even remotely surprised by this outburst. He just shrugged his shoulders and brushed it off. Dutch, on the other hand, pointed his Magnum forward and blew the can directly in front of him to smithereens before taking a long sip of his beer.

"I believe you were about to show me how 'real' shooting was done?" He couldn't have been smugger if he tried. Revy elbowed him in the stomach, though that did not seem to bother him at all. He barely flinched. While the other two half-heartedly wrestled with one another, Rock made his way over to Benny. Considering he was never one to bear weapons, he seemed content to simply sit and watch, though even on a day like this, Benny probably would have rathered be down with his computers.

"You took your time crawling out of bed this morning," he told the jaded Rock. Indeed, he had only been awake ten minutes, having been roused by the commotion up on deck. Emerging to the display he had seen made him question whether it was worth waking at all. "Late night?"

"Not particularly," Rock answered. That was a lie, of course. The rest of them didn't know this, or at least they had never told him otherwise, but Rock hadn't been sleeping that well during the last three weeks. His nights were restless and far more difficult than they probably should have been, and when he did finally sleep, his mind would not rest. If it wasn't bad dreams that woke him, the slightest commotion in the surrounding area did. It had been three weeks and two days, to be exact, since the beginning of these restless nights. Rock hadn't been keeping track, but his mind had seen fit to remind him occasionally how long it had been since he orchestrated the death of one of the deadliest individuals to ever step foot in Roanapur.

Hunter Woods was dead, his body rotting more and more each day. But Rock had come to learn that even in death, people who leave their mark on you never truly let you be. The crime lord had been in Rock's thoughts a lot since his death. Rock's part in it did not necessarily bother him, at least not like it had when it first happened. He had made his peace with what he did. There was no other way out of that situation. Hunter was far too dangerous, not to mention the fact that if he had been allowed to live, it would be Rock's body rotting instead. But that hadn't stopped visions of the man haunting Rock as he slept, causing his guilt he thought had been buried to resurface. It would not eat away at him like it might have had he not worked through it. Revy had helped in that regard. She made him see that he did the right thing, no matter what way he looked at it. But his conscience was a fickle, unpredictable thing. That guilt, no matter how unwarranted, would always be there. It would just take time to fully process it. When that time came, Hunter Woods would haunt him no more. But for now, he would just have to put up with it.

Benny gestured to the other two with a movement of his head. Rock turned to see Revy caught in a headlock. She had apparently tried to take Dutch down, an ambitious goal, truth be told. She struggled against his arms energetically before relenting. A throaty laugh escaped her, then. Revy's temperament had noticeably improved since the fall of the Dead Men. To Rock, she was pretty much the same old volatile gunslinger he had come to know and love, but she was far less irritable than she used to be. Questions that would have once been met with scorn or backlash now received genuine, if somewhat sarcastic, answers. Situations that once brought out her aggressive side now failed to set her off. And altercations like the one she found herself in now that, before, provoked and encouraged Revy's less than desirable behaviour more than anything, would now cause laughter. She was a changed woman, at least to a point. It was still her, unmistakeably, but evolved, perhaps. Rock was happy to see her this way. His relationship with her was almost symbiotic. Though he had never really contemplated it before, the fact remained that their moods had a correlation with one another. When Revy became upset, so did Rock. When he was in pain, so was she. And now that her mood had more or less been improved in a permanent fashion, so had his.

"Can't say I've seen Revy like this too often," Benny piped up, possibly noticing Rock's silence. "She's had one hell of a year and a half. I half expected her to just crack and shoot the whole place to shit."

"I'd be lying if I wasn't expecting a meltdown at some point," Rock agreed. "It's nice to see her actually enjoying herself for once." That, too, was a very apparent change that had taken place. Before, Revy was capable of enjoying herself, but that hopeless, overhanging, pervading sense of bleakness and sorrow always tainted each moment. No good thing could ever last for long. That did not seem to be the case anymore. There was peace now. _Peace._ That had long been a foreign concept to Roanapur. Even before the unending string of conflicts that began with Wolf Pack, the city had been the choice warring grounds for many a criminal. This was the city where some of the most powerful crime syndicates in the world were born, where countless wannabe criminals had come to die, where the Bloodhound of Florencia had caused outright mayhem, where a young pair of Romanian twins met their end after the brutal slaughter of countless victims. And yet, it seemed the city had finally built a reputation within specific circles of lawbreakers without drawing unwanted attention to itself. People did not trifle with Roanapur anymore. They knew better, Rock could tell that much. There would always be death and the daily grind would continue. There was business to be done, after all. The cartels and ruling factions still had their own personal ventures to see to. But as for those special individuals who thought themselves savvy enough to take on the Triad or Hotel Moscow? They did not exist anymore. Those who had were now dead or elsewhere.

Dutch finally released Revy, who responded by punching him in the chest. She then grabbed a beer from the cooler and sat herself down on one of four lawn chairs, propping her feet up on the side of the boat. Rock made his way over to her as Dutch headed back inside, presumably to check the radar. Regardless of the current state of the city, Lagoon were still as cautious as ever. Revy grew quiet as her eyes fell on the ocean around them. The city itself was not in view, but it was less than a half hour away. Occasionally, Lagoon would come out here just to relax. As quiet as the city was, it was still a lot of noise they grew tiresome of every so often. This spot out on the sea was their little refuge when they needed to get away. Ironic, in some ways, fitting in others. They were pirates, through and through. It was almost perfect that the vastness of the waters so near the city served as their escape when they needed it.

"Could almost just stay out here, huh?" Revy mused, slowly taking a drink of her beer, never taking her eyes from the water. "Hear that?"

"What?" asked Rock, glancing around him for some source of whatever it was Revy had apparently heard.

"Nothing," she answered. "Whole lot of it, too. It's dead silent out here." Rock looked abashed, then, considering he must have looked quite foolish scanning the area around him wildly. He was glad Revy had been facing away from him. "No gunfire, no car engines. Not a damn thing. Silence like this is hard to pass up." Rock grunted.

"I don't know," he began gleefully. "It would be pretty hard to get a pizza delivered out here. You sure you'd be able to live like that?" Revy got a good chuckle out of that.

"You've got me there. Still, you gotta admit…this is pretty good, partner."

"Yeah, it is." Dutch emerged then with his cell in hand. Rock wasn't aware he had been taking a call.

"I hope you ain't expecting a call, Dutch." The voice was Benny's, a little more concern than he probably intended.

"Don't you worry, Benny-Boy," Dutch reassured him. "Just a precaution. I doubt we'll be getting any personal calls, but you never know."

"Well, I'll be glad if we never get any calls again," Benny told him. "With the way the last few have gone, you can understand why I'd rather you chucked that phone into the water."

"I second that," Rock concurred. Lagoon never received jobs over their personal cell phones, but Rock shared Benny's sentiment. They were glad to be taking some well-earned leave from working.

"So do I," Revy chirped mischievously. Rock suspected she had more desire to see Dutch toss his phone than anything else. Dutch smirked.

"You three realise I'm not actually getting rid of the cell?"

"Pity," Benny muttered. "If I have to hear a phone go off one more time, I might throw myself in the ocean."


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Another Day In Paradise

"Slow down, Dutch," Revy's voice came from the back seat. Reluctant to argue, the big man did as he was told, slowing the car to a stop in the middle of the road. Revy rolled down the window and stuck her head out like a dog. Rock squinted to see what it was she was looking at.

"Any reason you have us parked in the middle of the street, Revy?" Dutch asked impatiently.

"Is it just me or was that place shot to shit not long ago?" Curious to see what she was talking about, the rest of them craned their necks and looked over to the right of the car. The building was small but not noticeably so. The lights were all on inside. It appeared to be a bar. That wasn't particularly disorienting at first, but they all knew this specific establishment. Or at the very least, they knew of it. This was the bar the Romanian twins had decimated during their time in the city. Hotel Moscow's collectors were sent here to receive their usual payment. Only death was waiting for them on that night. After the incident was resolved and the two children killed, the site had been condemned. Not only that, but any businesses nearby that were in a position to do so also packed up and left out of mere paranoia. It was odd that it had been reopened at all.

"Can't imagine fixing that shithole up was too fun," Dutch said aloud.

"Yeah," Revy agreed quietly, resting her head on her hands like a child. "Place probably reeked. How many bodies were there, five? Six?"

"What nutcase would reopen a graveyard like that?" Benny asked them. Though he did not expect any of them to answer, he was curious. Considering only a ruin remained here recently, it was remarkable that the bar had been rebuilt and now apparently functioned properly again.

"Only one way to find out!" Revy squawked before bursting out of the car and legging it over to the building.

"What are you doing?!" Rock called after her. Dutch rolled his eyes and pulled the car in beside the establishment. They all exited the vehicle, then, and followed Revy inside. Considering the level of destruction that had taken place, the bar looked impeccable. It was almost as if no damage had been done at all.

"Pfft, look at this place," Revy groaned in what could only be described as disgust. Considering her affinity for the Yellowflag, that wasn't surprising. "Wasn't worth their time rebuilding, if you ask me. Shoulda saved their money." There weren't many people here, maybe five or six, two of which Lagoon Company recognised. Four-Leaf was sat at the bar with a drink in one hand. Thought he had his back turned to them, they recognised that voice instantly. His shillelagh, too, was in his free hand.

"I guess that answers the question of who owns the place," Benny suggested. That made more sense than any other theories they could come up with. The Irish Mob boss had only been in the city for about a month and in that time, his people had been making moves to establish themselves in the city. Specifically, they now ran a protection racket that focused on the lesser known criminals who, without the guidance and intervention of the Mob, would get themselves killed. As well as that, they had apparently been scouting areas not within the territory of Hotel Moscow or the Triad. While this bar had once been an extension of Balalaika's influence and contributed to her business, the moment she condemned the place it became fair game. That must be why Four-Leaf decided to move in and take the place over. Not only did it provide a hub for his people to meet, but anyone who frequented the place would be putting money straight in the Mob's pocket. Four-Leaf set his drink down on the bar and rose. He spotted Lagoon Company and smiled.

"Ah, look who it is! All's well, I hope?" They weren't sure how to answer that. Regardless, he took off towards the other end of the room, leaving the Wolf alone at the bar. The assassin noticed the others at the door and offered them a smirk.

"Well, don't all rush in the door at once," he spat when he realised they had no desire to come inside. He currently had his feet up on the bar with his arms hanging limp beside him. Revy was the first to walk over to him, her own arms outstretched dramatically.

"What, Bao's place ain't good enough for you no more?" Wolf laughed as he leaned forward and grabbed his glass from the bar, taking a sip he appeared to enjoy far too much.

"Ah, don't be like that," he moaned. "Just stopped by to see what Four-Leaf had done with the place. You have to admit this is impressive. The way I hear it, the whole building was riddled when he found it. Windows smashed, walls torn to pieces. And, in Four-Leaf's own words, there was 'an ungodly amount of dried blood.'" The rest of Lagoon took seats at the bar, then, though they made no effort to hide their reluctance.

"Yep. Handiwork of the twins from hell," Dutch said. Wolf shook his head.

"That means nothing to me."

"Child assassins," Benny told him as he prepared to fill him in on the disturbing details. "A pair of Romanian twins who killed a sizeable number of Balalaika's people."

"I can't imagine she took that too well." That was an understatement. "Well, shit, thanks for the nightmares. So this place really was a fucking circus before I showed up."

"Hah!" Revy snorted. "You have no idea, Wolfy."

"Anyway, they didn't survive the onslaught," Benny continued. "Balalaika had them both killed. I guess she got her revenge." Wolf could tell this wasn't exactly the happiest topic of conversation. Rock, in particular, was very quiet during this. Still, in some morbid way, the assassin found this interesting. Mainly because it gave him that bit more knowledge about how the city had been before he arrived.

"Killing kids? That's screwed up."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you'd seen 'em," Dutch assured him. He paused in thought, then. "You telling us you never killed any kids?"

"That's correct," Wolf told him, taking another drink.

"Really? Nobody ever approached you with a hit on some brat they wanted taken out?"

"Oh, dozens of times," Wolf answered. "You'd be surprised how many crazies there are out there." Somehow, Dutch doubted that. "I've had my fair share of clients who wanted me to put an end to children. Problem is, the kids they wanted dead weren't anything like those twins you described. They were just…kids. That ain't my style." Lagoon had never given it much thought before, but the affirmation that Wolf had actively refused contracts to assassinate children did appeal to them. They were no saints, that was as blatant as ever. And they had also completed jobs that involved kids, some that resulted in the deaths of the poor souls. But even they would not think much of someone who murdered children and still slept at night.

"Speaking of Balalaika," Rock interjected, likely eager to change the subject, "how did she react when she heard about this place? Considering it used to be under her thumb, I can't imagine she was too pleased."

"According to shillelagh man over there, she didn't give him any trouble," Wolf said, surprise in his voice. "I mean, I doubt she was dancing with joy, but it sounds like she was content to leave him and his people be. After that rescue a few weeks ago, I imagine she's willing to give him a free pass. She strikes me as the type of person who pays her debts."

"I can vouch for that," Dutch confirmed. Indeed, Balalaika had seen fit to honour her debt to Lagoon in the past. She was a woman of honour, whether others in the city wanted to believe it or not. "If you ask me, Balalaika's letting a few things slide these days." That, too, was true enough. Ever since the city had been put on high alert by Wolf Pack's presence, Hotel Moscow and the Triad had been cracking down hard on transgressions they would not tolerate. Frankly, it got hard to breathe at one point. Balalaika, in particular, had crossed the line from cautious and smart to paranoid and unstable. However, since her confrontation with Hunter Woods, she seemed to be relaxing her iron grip on the city a bit. He had taken her down a peg, it seemed, something she actually needed.

It was better now that she could relax and return to business without breathing down everybody's necks about every little thing. Dutch certainly appreciated it. Anytime during the past year and a half where he had to meet with her, there was an unmistakable sense of unease. But now, Lagoon once more felt comfortable operating in the city without worrying about the ramifications if they stepped a little out of line, in Hotel Moscow's eyes. Balalaika felt like more of a colleague or associate than an overbearing boss.

"No complaints here," Benny admitted. "I could do without Hotel Moscow's watchful eye making me nervous." Four-Leaf finally returned then, grabbing a stool and setting it down behind the bar so he would be facing Lagoon and Wolf.

"Not too shabby, eh?" he asked. They assumed he was referring to the bar itself. "Could've been better, I suppose, but we didn't have a whole lot to work with. This was the best we could do without knocking the whole site and starting from scratch." As he spoke, he grabbed an assortment of glasses and bottles before setting them down before Lagoon Company. They all snatched up whatever took their fancy.

"Throw all the bullshit you want at us, you still got nothing on Bao," Revy grumbled moodily.

"You'd prefer to be sitting across from that greasy bastard than me?" Four-Leaf asked her, making no attempt to hide how insulting he thought that was. "Jesus. You take no prisoners, do you?"

"Can't beat the Yellowlfag," Revy reiterated adamantly. "He'd give us our drinks soon as we came in and we'd get the dirt, too." Four-Leaf looked like he had just thought of something, then.

"You want the dirt? Well, as it happens, there is something you might be interested in." Lagoon Company all came to attention, then.

"Is that so?" asked Dutch apprehensively. "As long as it's not about some nutjob who wants Balalaika dead, I'll be happy." They all found that amusing, considering recent events.

"It's early days yet," Four-Leaf joked. "From what I've heard, there's a newcomer in town. A priest, actually. He's not a local. Anybody I spoke to says they've never seen him before. He hasn't done anything to draw attention to himself yet, but who knows what he's up to, really."

"You had your people look into this?" Rock asked him. He couldn't help but sound a bit judgemental, considering. If Four-Leaf made a habit of immediately investigating newcomers, he was going to step on some toes.

"Not at first," he assured them. "But he started hanging around the places I visited. Some of my boys reported that they'd been followed. I did a little digging and found out the car used to follow them had been rented by that very priest. I don't know about you lot, but that's very strange to me."

"You can say that again," Revy agreed. "So where is he now?"

"He checked into the Ramsap Inn just a few hours ago. I have my people keeping an eye on the place."

"Why not just have him taken to you?" Revy asked. "He was tailing your guys, right? Fucker's asking for it."

"Unless I know why he's here, I'm reluctant to have him taken," Four-Leaf told them. He was playing it safe, just in case. Regardless, he was having his people keep an eye on this priest. That was something. "As soon as I figure out what he has planned, he'll be brought straight here, have no fear."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Sins Of The Father

The Ramsap Inn was a small, dingy motel where only the desperate or endangered frequented. Most of the people who stayed here were on the run from the wrong people. It wasn't exactly the most glamorous place, after all. It was, ironically, where Four-Leaf had stayed after he arrived in the city and brokered an alliance with Balalaika. The reasoning for that had more to with the state of affairs within the city regarding the Dead Men than the Mob's welfare at the time. The car came to a stop in the alleyway just outside it. Rock switched off the engine and turned to Revy.

"Are you two really doing this?" he asked, the exasperation written on his face. Wolf leaned forward from the back with an expression that suggested Rock had just said something ridiculous.

"Oh, come on," he said. "You want to know why this asshole is here too, don't you? You have to admit, this sounds pretty weird."

"Relax, Rock," Revy told him scornfully. "Guy's a fucking priest, right? What's he gonna do, throw a bible at us?" Four-Leaf hadn't exactly prompted them to go after the newcomer, but once they learned where he had been staying, they couldn't exactly pass up the opportunity either. The idea was far too tempting, if not to save the Mob and possibly the ruling factions the trouble later, to give them something to do. It didn't surprise Rock anymore the things they found exhilarating. Then again, they probably would have preferred a shootout as opposed to what was sure to be a very one-sided interrogation. A simple priest didn't exactly spell doom for anyone. Then again, if this man really was nothing more or less than he appeared, what was he doing in Roanapur?

"What the-" Wolf's startled voice came from behind. Rock's thoughts were immediately interrupted by the back door being flung open and none other than Eda forcing her way into the car, shoving Wolf over to the other side. She shut the door after her.

"Well, fancy meeting you guys here!"

"Ah, _shit_!" Revy screeched. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"It's like Vatican Fucking City here tonight," Wolf joked.

"Same as you three, I imagine," she told them. "You are here to see the priest, right? Otherwise, this is one hell of a coincidence."

"'Course we're here for the priest," Revy snapped. "What else would we be doing here?"

"What, you all got a lot on your consciences or something?" Eda teased. The others could almost hear Revy rolling her eyes. "I'd be happy to take your confessions, if you want." None of them responded to that, despite Eda's apparent jolly demeanour.

"How did you know about him?" Rock asked, breaking the silence. "It sounds like he hasn't been in the city that long."

"Well, he wasn't exactly conspicuous, if you know what I mean," Eda explained. "For one thing, he turned up in uniform. For another, he went around asking about places he could hole up. I'd be surprised if even Chang doesn't know about him by now." That piqued the attention of the other two gunslingers.

"We better get moving, then," Revy piped up, grabbing her Cutlasses and throwing open the door. The guns were more of a habitual precaution, considering they did not expect to actually meet resistance inside. True, if the priest had managed to draw unwanted attention, there may well be cartel members or agents of the Triad inside searching for the newcomer. In that case, this would be a lot more complicated. "You ready, Wolfy?" The assassin readied his Desert Eagle and exited the car.

"What the hell are you two up to?" Eda demanded as they made their way towards the building. They refused to answer as they snuck inside the Ramsap Inn. Either that or they simply couldn't hear her. "They're not going in there to kill the guy, right?" Rock laughed.

"Don't worry, Eda," he reassured her. "They just want to talk to him. Apparently, he's been following Four-Leaf's people around the city."

"Oh, so the mobster had you guys go after him, huh?"

"Not exactly. He mentioned where he was staying. After that, Revy decided she wanted to talk to him herself. And she dragged Wolf into it, too." Despite that, he knew well the assassin was far from unwilling, here. He was as curious as any of them concerning the priest's purpose in the city. "What else do you know about him?" Eda leaned forward, then, and rested her arms on the empty seat in front of her.

"Well, I've been doing some digging. From what I've turned up, he claims to be from Colombia. He hasn't mentioned why he's here, but he did ask around about the Mob. I guess that makes sense, seeing as how it was Four-Leaf who put you on his trail." That still didn't make a whole lot of sense, though. So far, it sounded as though this stranger had come from South America specifically to find Four-Leaf, or members of his Mob, at the very least. That was extremely strange on the face of it. Not only that, but the man was neither a criminal nor an agent of the law. That caused Rock to resume his previous train of thought, then. Perhaps this man's moral status wasn't so cut and dry.

There had been many a killer to cross the border of the city in its time, several of them having been monsters in disguise. If there was anything Rock had learned from past experience, it was that judging by appearances was a big mistake. This man dressed like a priest, but was it so out of the blue to assume that wasn't the extent of it? His uniform may have been a literal disguise, or at the very least, its purpose might have been to conceal the wearer's true nature. It was entirely possible this man was a gun for hire, a hitman. The only question was, if so, who was his target? Four-Leaf? Or just one of his associates?

"You're thinking awful hard there, Romeo," Eda's increasingly annoying voice came again, forcing Rock to attention.

"Doesn't it strike you as odd that this priest asks around the city about a specific group? A Mob who, only recently, found their place here? And Four-Leaf was relatively unknown until he came here. This city gave him an opportunity to make a name for himself. You can't tell me you believe it's really as simple as it seems." Eda's smile faded, then, and she grew serious.

"Of course I don't," she snapped. "You think I'm that stupid? Guy's obviously got _something_ to hide. Just gotta figure out what." Rock grunted and scratched his chin.

"Think about it. He spent his first moments in the city asking around about the Mob. Doesn't that sound familiar?" Eda raised an eyebrow at that.

"Ah. Your maid friend, huh?"

"Exactly. The second she came here, she inquired about where she could find Abrego and his cartel."

"And then she proceeded to blow the place to shit," Eda finished. "Interesting. You think he's taking on the Irish Mob, then?" Rock did not answer immediately. Truthfully, he did not know. It was only a hunch after all. But he'd be lying if he said it didn't add up.

"I hope not," he answered sombrely. "That's the last thing we need right now." Just moments after he finished speaking, Rock spotted silhouettes in the adjacent alleyway. There must have been eight or nine people, all of which hurried inside the Ramsap Inn.

"I think that's your answer," Eda told him. Rock did not seem convinced.

"No," he began, defiant. "No, those weren't Four-Leaf's men. Come to think of it, I didn't recognise them at all."

"So, what," Eda sighed, clearly losing patience, "you think he was followed from home?"

Few of the rooms in the Ramsap Inn were currently in use. That narrowed down the search quite a bit. Revy and Wolf found themselves on the top floor as they neared the end of the trail. If they didn't find him, he had fled, either anticipating the arrival of potential enemies or else to see to some other business. That idea alone gave a sense of urgency to the situation. Wolf kicked open the door in front of him before dodging to the side and planting his back against the wall as quick as a flash, the same formulaic method he had been using since they began the search. When there was no gunfire sent his way, he entered the room, quickly looked around, and exited again. He looked down the length of the corridor to spot Revy emerging from the room two doors down. They had been working their way towards each other. Now, only one room remained to be searched.

"Nothing?" Wolf whispered, though that was probably unnecessary. If this priest hadn't heard doors being kicked in, he wouldn't hear voices. They could have approached this with more subtlety, but they were impatient. Besides, that was what Rock was for. If he spotted the priest leaving through one of the windows, he was to honk the horn three times. So far, there had been no noise.

"Jack shit," Revy answered, cocking her head towards the last door. The two of them strolled over until they faced the room head on. This had to be where the man was hiding out.

"You want to do the honours or-" Before he could finish his question, Revy planted her boot into the wood and sent the door flying open. This was followed by her Cutlasses being pointed forward and Revy herself entering.

"Alright, asshole, you got nowhere to run. Put 'em up!" As she finished speaking, a confused expression spread across her face. The man was kneeling down, a single lit candle in front of him. It looked like he was praying. He had made no attempt to defend himself, nor did he appear to be even remotely surprised by this unwanted interruption. "Did you hear me?!"

"I'm sure your friends outside heard you," he retorted. "There was no point in running, I heard you all speaking below." The window of his room was open. He must have known they had no intention of killing him, prompting him to let down his guard. As he spoke, Revy holstered her Cutlasses and grabbed the back of the man's collar, dragging him to his feet and throwing him against the wall. After that, she grabbed him by the neck and held him on his knees. Wolf pointed his gun at the man's head.

"You wanna start talking, chuckles?!" Revy growled.

"Word has it you were looking for the Mob," Wolf began. He reckoned a more amicable approach might actually provide answers as opposed to Revy's aggression which would more than likely be of no help. "You want to tell us why?" The priest looked at the two killers before him, his eyes eventually resting on Wolf. He smiled, then.

"The Irish Mob? No, I have no issue with them," he explained. "I thought they might lead me to someone else. I thought they would lead me to the person I really wanted to meet."

"Well, spit it out, already," Revy commanded.

"I've been looking for you, Wolf," he explained. Revy relaxed her grip on his throat when she heard that.

"Who are you?" Wolf asked him. "And why do you have it out for me?" The man chuckled.

"My name is Pius," he told them. "I am a simple servant of the Lord. I have no quarrel with you."

"Oh, great," Revy groaned. "He's a religious lunatic. That's just what we needed."

"My purpose here is far less sinister than you might imagine," he continued, deciding to ignore Revy. That was probably for the best. "I bring news from Venezuela." Revy frowned, turning to look at Wolf. They both knew what that meant.

"From Garcia?" the assassin asked, never taking his weapon from Pius's head. They still did not trust the priest, at least not entirely.

"Precisely. He is need of your help. A situation has arisen that he would like your help with. His family are in danger."

"What else is new?" Wolf jested, attempting to appear more blasé than he was. In truth, the idea that the Lovelaces were in danger always concerned him.

"Why the fuck did that brat send you to get Wolf?" Revy questioned him. Pius, however, didn't get time to respond. The sound of footsteps reached their ears. Wolf backed up against the wall, motioning to the others to do the same. The intruders had managed to make it to the doorway too quick for that, however, weapons in hand. Revy's Cutlasses were in her hands instantly. It took both her and Wolf by surprise that she didn't get to use them. The men at the door were dead before they hit the ground. Pius had produced a Skorpion vz 61 from inside his jacket and mowed the men down. More than just a priest, indeed. Revy, eyes wide, turned to face the priest. She looked bewildered more than anything.

"We can't stay here," Pius told them. "More will be along soon. We need to move."


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Outnumbered

"Once the meeting had finished, I prepared to leave," Pius said. They had all returned to the Yellowflag once the intruders had been killed. Now, the priest was finally explaining himself in full. "But one of them must have noticed me inside. He followed me to my car, tried to tackle me. So I strangled him."

"That was a dumb move," Revy told him. Until now, they weren't sure why these people had any quarrel with him. Now, it seemed clearer. Had Pius been able to avoid any conflict altogether, he may well have gotten away with heading to Roanapur and giving the others this information. As it was, they had followed him in an attempt to kill him. Not only did he kill one of theirs, but they probably didn't take too kindly to the fact that he had been listening in on their meeting in the bar.

"What choice did I have?" the man defended himself. "Regardless, I made my way to the Lovelace estate. I didn't know when this New Order planned to make their move, but I needed to warn Master Garcia as soon as I could." Pius had identified himself as a friend of the Lovelaces, a recent acquaintance who had been making monthly trips to the estate. What business he had there was still unknown to the others, but they didn't care that much. What was important was that he had warned them, allowing them to prepare.

"They must have followed you there," Rock said, then.

"No," Pius answered simply. "Not that night. Besides, it sounds like they already knew where the estate was. Their leader spoke as if they'd been waiting for the right moment to strike. But they did show within the week. The Lovelaces had the gates locked and their youngest, Fabiola, stood guard. I assisted, of course, but I was expecting more resistance."

"You telling me they didn't even try and make their way in?" Eda asked, incredulous.

"They didn't need to. Their leader came to the gates with six of his subordinates. He commented on the gates but other than that he seemed content to leave them closed. He told us that he wanted Roberta. That was two days ago. He's due to return tomorrow. If he doesn't get what he wants, he's assured us his people will force their way in." That didn't sound good at all. Roberta's time in Roanapur facing off against the Dead Men took its toll on her. Had she not been beaten down so badly, she could probably deal with this herself, assisted by the young but dangerous Fabiola. But that was not the case. Under current circumstances, the Lovelaces were quite vulnerable. Not only that, but Wolf couldn't ignore the fact that there was inherently something amiss about the whole situation. While he did believe the Lovelaces were in danger, something about Pius's story seemed off to him. There was more to this than met the eye. Still, when all was said and done, Wolf had a more substantial connection to the Lovelaces than he let on. The fact that they were in danger at this very moment made him feel anxious. He would keep that to himself, though.

"I thought this brat was dirt poor," Revy exclaimed. "Where's he getting the money to hire Wolfy?!" Despite the fact that Wolf had been hired in the past, he deigned to share that this seemed as though Garcia was extending an invitation to help free of charge, an invitation Wolf would readily accept. The others would judge him for that, but he would not extort money out of the family for this.

"That brings me to the next order of business," Pius continued. "While Garcia did ask for the Wolf, he also asked for you two." He pointed to Rock and Revy, then.

"Us?!" Rock asked. "Why does Garcia think we'll be of any help?"

"Well, the fact remains that there are a lot of this Hawke's people in Venezuela. My guess is he wants to use your skills any way he can to make sure none of them pose a threat to his family."

"Hah! That weasel really thinks we wanna help him?" Revy roared. She found the mere concept completely ridiculous.

"Come on, Revy," Rock scolded her gently. "You're the one who wanted to know why Pius was here. We can't just ignore this, not when Garcia has asked for us personally." Revy audibly groaned out of sheer annoyance at that. Not only did she have no desire whatsoever to help the Lovelaces, but she was only just beginning to enjoy some peace and quiet after everything Hunter had put them through. That whole ordeal with the Dead Men had been taxing for all of them. Revy, in particular, had a lot of emotions and thoughts to sift through after everything. And, of course, in typical Revy fashion, she would not voice any of this to the rest of them. She would continue to deal with these internal struggles and emotional upheavals on her own. Wolf just hoped that she would at least confide in Rock, to a degree. The amount of inner turmoil that was present in Revy was too much for one person to bear. If she insisted on shutting the rest of them out, it would consume her. Saying that, she had become better at expressing herself during the last year and a half. Not perfect, but better.

"If it's any consolation, I doubt you'll be alone," Pius told her.

"How's that?" she asked him, sure he was just humouring her.

"Part of the New Order are made up of former cartel members, the Colombian cartel. The same cartel used to harass the Lovelaces, something their renegades insist on continuing. Lucky for us, that same cartel has put bounties on their runaways."

"Let me guess," Eda began, "you put the word out right here in the city?"

"Guilty as charged," Pius told her. "I'm betting on any number of bounty hunters from Roanapur making their way over in an attempt to make some quick cash."

"Oh, a certain trio comes to mind, alright," Wolf groaned, locking eyes with Revy. Shenhua, Sawyer and Lotton never turned down an opportunity to earn some quick cash, nor did they shy away from a promising job. If this New Order really had been targeted by the cartel for several bounties, it was likely their deaths would earn the one responsible quite a bit of money. It seemed odd that the three bounty hunters would go anywhere near Roberta, considering how frightened they were of her. But nevertheless, the prospect of making money had apparently trumped those fears.

"Fine, then," Revy grunted, accepting the fact that she would not be getting out of this. "But if that little turd pisses me off, I'm gonna break his fucking nose."

"Dutch isn't going to like this," Rock mused.

"What, losing the two of us for who knows how long so we can babysit the Glasses Bitch? Yeah, I don't think he'll be thrilled." Considering the current climate in the city, he may not actually be too bothered by this. Lagoon Company weren't doing anything right now anyway, nor were they expecting any urgent jobs. Still, this was highly unorthodox. He wasn't exactly going to be ecstatic about the news.

"You said these clowns were going to show up tomorrow?" Wolf asked, then. Pius nodded.

"At six in the evening, to be specific."

"Why do they want Roberta so bad, anyway?" Rock asked. That was a question none of them had even considered until now. During Pius's recollection of the night he eavesdropped on the meeting, he mentioned that they spoke about killing the Bloodhound, but he had forgotten to mention why, specifically, they were after her. Or perhaps he had omitted that information intentionally.

"Well, that's the interesting part," the priest told them. "Hawke, and presumably a number of his people, used to part of the F.A.R.C., the same group Roberta herself worked for." That genuinely came as a surprise to them all.

"You're shitting me," Revy croaked.

"The organisation has since given up on the idea of finding her, especially after what happened to the last unit they sent after her." Rock and Revy remembered that all too well. "But Hawke was not so easily convinced. He took a number of his comrades and decided they weren't going to give up the chase. If you come back with me, we might have a chance."

"You want us to hold them off?" Revy asked. That sounded like he planned to evacuate the estate while Wolf and Revy gunned down as many of Hawke's people as they could. But Pius's face said it all. He had other ideas.

"I want you to wipe them out," he said quietly. They became visibly taken aback by that. They expected Pius to be orchestrating a plan where a sizeable chunk of the New Order would fall, but the idea that the whole group would meet their end was ambitious to say the least, if not downright insane. Eda, for one, openly laughed at that suggestion.

"Sounds to me like you've got a few screws loose, Father," she told him, making no attempt to lighten the blow of her insult. "These guys have got trained terrorists on their side, and who knows how many of them there are altogether? Trust me, this is suicide."

"Mock me if you will," Pius told her, clearly unimpressed. "But I assure you, I have a plan. All I need are these three. The only thing is, we need to leave soon." So it was decided, then. Wolf, Revy and Rock would accompany Pius back to Venezuela to confront this Hawke. Then, in following this plan he had apparently formulated, they would proceed to wipe out the group until they no longer posed a threat to the Lovelaces, finally leaving them in peace. If they did manage to pull this off, as unlikely as it seemed, they could return to Roanapur happy and satisfied that they had done good work. Then again, Revy's morale may actually be lowered considering she presumably wasn't getting paid. That would be a nice surprise for her. Wolf, on the other hand, was anticipating a meeting with the Lovelaces. He hadn't seen Roberta since the death of Hunter Woods.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," Eda called to them as she made her way to the door. If it's any consolation, I'll say a few words to the big man upstairs and see if that helps. Take it from the bible, 2 Chronicles, verse 14:11; 'O Lord, there is no one but you who can help the weak when they are vastly outnumbered. Help us, O Lord our God, for we rely on you and have marched on your behalf against this huge army. O Lord our God, don't let men prevail against you!'"


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: A New Friend

Once they arrived in Venezuela, Pius volunteered to drive them to the estate himself. He was anxious to get to business, especially with the New Order looming on the horizon. The Lovelaces were in a tight spot, here. The sooner they got underway, the better. Pius pulled up just outside the estate. As he shut off the engine, he turned to Rock and Revy in the back seat.

"Why don't you two hang on here for now?" he asked politely. Despite said politeness, Revy scowled at him broodingly.

"Why?" she asked. "I thought the little shit asked for us personally. You gonna tell me we're not welcome here after all?"

"Relax," Pius urged her. "Master Garcia is eager to meet both of you, of course. But I must bring Wolf to him first. Trust me, it's necessary." That screamed bullshit, but they decided not to argue. At the moment, Pius wanted to bring Wolf to see Garcia so the boy could explain the situation with a bit more clarity. Considering Hawke was due to arrive at the estate in just three hours, there was a sense of haste that put them all on edge.

"Fine," Revy relented. "Just don't take too damn long." Wolf and the priest exited the car and walked towards the gates, which were locked, naturally. They came to a halt, spotting the young Fabiola in the distance. Upon noticing them, she began making her way towards the gates.

"Now that we're relatively alone, there is something you must know," Pius began carefully. Wolf couldn't shake the sense that he had been tricked into something, here. The assassin slowly, very intentionally, turned his head towards the priest, locking eyes with him. He did not speak, instead giving Pius a chance to explain himself. "I may not have been entirely truthful when we spoke at the bar. I mentioned that Hawke demanded Roberta be turned over to him." Fabiola was getting closer, now. Wolf spotted her lift a single hand and reach beneath her maid's uniform. He had to stop himself from instinctually readying his Desert Eagle, playing off the jerk of his arm by adjusting the strap of the blade at his back.

"What have you gotten me into?" he asked of Pius. They both spoke with hurried voices. It seemed to go unspoken but understood by them both that Fabiola was not to hear this.

"Hawke seemed to know about your association with the Lovelaces," Pius continued. "He demanded that they also call you here. When he comes for Roberta, he will be expecting us to turn you over to them, as well." Wolf shot the priest a dangerously vicious look.

"Are you telling me you set me the fuck up?!" His eyes returned to Fabiola to make sure she was not actually producing a weapon. He did not believe the Lovelaces would actually take him hostage and turn him over to these people, but paranoia was getting the better of him. The young girl was closer, now. They had maybe fifteen seconds left to speak.

"Of course not!" Pius pleaded, raising his arms in defence. "I didn't think you'd agree to come here if you knew. I had to be discreet, you understand. It's better this way." Wolf sighed deeply. It could have been a lot worse. Considering his first thought was that he had been betrayed, this was a welcome surprise.

"Well, you're an honest little prick, I'll give you that." Fabiola appeared to have heard that, giving the two of them a confused look. Without the context of the conversation, she must have been quite puzzled by that remark. As it turned out, she had reached into her uniform to produce a key, which she now used to unlock the gates. Once they were opened, she joined her hands in front of her formally and smiled.

"Mister Wolf," she began. The assassin resisted, with some difficulty, the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm glad you could make it. The Young Master is eager to speak with you. Pius explained the situation, I hope?" A snort escaped Wolf.

"Playing fast and loose with the word 'explained.' But, uh…yeah, he told me enough." Fabiola squinted. Wolf hadn't thrown the priest under the bus completely, but he had been tempted.

"Good," Fabiola answered hesitantly. She eyed the car outside, or what she could see of it. It was safe to assume she wasn't looking forward to encountering the other two. Her relationship with them had been rocky at best. "Allow me to escort you inside. Master Garcia will explain everything." As they made their way towards the door, Wolf glanced up at the sky. The sun still shone brightly but it was edging nearer and nearer to the horizon by the second.

"How long do we have before they come back?" he asked. He did not need to be more specific, they knew what he meant.

"Three hours," Fabiola told him. "The man in charge told us if we didn't comply, he would force his way in here. I hope you can help make sure that doesn't happen." She did not sound too confident. Perhaps it was less a lack of faith and more a distaste for the matter at hand in general. That, and the people involved. Though the girl had been more or less content to work with Wolf in the past, he could tell she bore no real love for him. He was a ruthless killer, one of the walking dead of Roanapur. Her opinion of such men and women was very low. She might have been swallowing her feelings, but Wolf had no doubt that if she had her way, he would have nothing to do with the family. Ironic, then, that Roberta was accepted for all her flaws. But there was no use dwelling on that now. They had work to do. Fabiola led them inside, coming to a stop in one of the more modest rooms. Inside, Garcia waited. The boy had noticeably matured since Wolf's last meeting with him. He had certainly grown taller, if nothing else. As the assassin came to a stop, Garcia did not greet him with a smile. That was likely due to the gravity of the situation.

"I'm glad you could make it," he said sincerely.

"We came as quick as we could," Pius assured him. "The others are waiting outside. I thought you might want to explain the situation to Wolf, first."

"Good thinking," Garcia told him. "Mister Wolf, I assume you've been filled in?"

"For the most part," the assassin answered. "I'm told you have a plan."

"It was Pius's idea. But, yes, we have need of your services. Unless we do this now, it will be much harder to avoid Hawke and his people when he returns." Wolf couldn't help but notice that Roberta wasn't present. True, it was doubtful she would be taking part in this plan herself, but it had still been assumed she would be present for the briefing. It was possible she was resting, considering. A twinge of regret pierced Wolf at the idea that Roberta's physical state forced her to rest for most of the day. He quickly shook it off.

"Well, let's not waste any time, then," he told the boy. "Tell me." Garcia nodded at Pius, who proceeded to unfold a map on the table between him and the Lovelaces. It was a map of Venezuela, of the region surrounding the estate, to be precise. Two areas had been circled. One was a town to the west of the estate. The other appeared to be a seemingly random chunk of countryside to the south. There must have been something there of interest regarding the New Order. Pius pointed to the second circle.

"This is why we brought your gunslinger friend," the priest began. "Before I went to Roanapur, I did some scouting around. The New Order didn't originate here, but they have moved the bulk of their operations to a nearby site. If Revy can make her way there, she'll be met with what I assume is the majority of their forces. We want her to take them out." Wolf didn't say a word. He just stared blankly at Pius. When the priest realised he would not receive a response, he became flustered.

"That's it?" Wolf asked. "That's your big plan? You really think Revy can take those fuckers on by herself?"

"Of course not," Pius corrected him. "Come on, Wolf. Give me some credit. Why do you think I put the word out in the city? Over half of those guys are former cartel members. Their heads will fetch a high price. If Revy and Fabiola make their way there, I'm sure there will be others close behind." That was a hell of a gamble. Despite the fact that his assertion was very possible, it was also not set in stone. This needed to be done quickly. Even if a gang of bounty hunters did follow Revy out there, unless they arrived before six this evening, they were useless. Still, it was something. Wolf was not prepared to scrap the entire plan just because of that.

"What else?" he asked, sincerely hoping the rest of the plan would be more impressive. Pius laid a finger on the other circle, the town not far from the estate.

"This is where their leaders will be meeting later today. In less than two hours, the men responsible for the direction of the entire group will all be in one room. You know what that means."

"You want me to kill 'em all," Wolf concluded. Obviously, Hawke would not be there, that would have been an easier solution. However, if they managed to even take a good go at this plan, he would have very few people left to back him up later today. Then, they could finish this.

"Exactly," Pius concurred. "They'll be meeting in the back room of Café Luxo."

"How did you come by this information?"

"I tracked one of their cars," the priest explained. "Managed to catch one of them alone, got him to tell me everything he could. Turns out, he was very helpful." The assassin nodded before turning to Garcia.

"You're alright with this, I assume?" The boy did not answer immediately, instead glancing out the window and breathing deeply. The sun was continuing its path towards the darkness. The light would fade, soon, and it would be time.

"I wish there was a way to avoid this," he admitted. That was an innocent, foolish hope. "But there is no other way, is there? This has to be done. I can't let them take my Roberta." Wolf remembered what Pius had told him, that Hawke wanted the assassin, too. He supposed he could not blame Garcia for prioritising his maid's safety. Speaking of, the assassin hadn't had time to think about why exactly the New Order wanted him. To his knowledge, he had never crossed them before, nor did he even know they existed until recently. He needed to know more.

"Garcia, why-" Before he could finish, the door was flung open outside and footsteps could be heard hammering on the ground. Revy appeared seconds later.

"You guys better come quick," she told them. "There's some asshole outside having a fucking field day." Wolf motioned to Garcia to stay put as he, Pius and Fabiola rushed outside. Rock waited by the doorway as the others headed towards the gates. Gunfire reached their ears before they saw anything. Then, bodies could be seen falling to the ground outside. Some wore generic suits, others were dressed in military fatigues. The New Order had come early, it seemed, or at least a garrison of them had. Seconds later, a man rushed inside the estate and shut the gates. They did not recognise him, but he appeared to be an enemy of the men shooting at him outside. For that reason, they held their fire. His skin was dark, like Pius's, but his grey dreadlocks had been tied back in a ponytail. He wore a grey sleeveless biker jacket, khaki combat trousers and army boots. His hands, too, had been covered in hand wraps not unlike those worn by boxers. Once he noticed the rest of them, he motioned to the gates.

"A little help?!" he roared. Fabiola immediately rushed forward and locked the gates again. "Thank you. The rest aren't far behind. You all better get ready."


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: A Wounded Dog

There weren't that many of the New Order following this stranger, maybe eight people in total. After the first three had been mercilessly mowed down, the rest of them had the good sense to take cover behind Pius's car. It wouldn't hold for long, but it did serve to protect them for the time being. The newcomer, having earned the temporary trust of the rest, took an AMT Automag III from a holster attached to the back of his belt and began firing at the attackers. The car was torn to shreds with little effort considering the amount of firepower being focused at it. Wolf and Revy managed to take out two more of the New Order. Three remained, now. It would not be long before they met their end. There was no escape route, nor was there anything they could say that would save them. This was it.

"Hey, new guy," Wolf called over the deafening sound of gunfire. The man raised an eyebrow. "What's your name?"

"Ashur," he answered loudly.

"If you want us to trust your ass, take out the rest of these goons!" He was certainly trying. The weapon he held was powerful, and the car would not hold up for much longer. They would have kept firing if not for the jeep that appeared shortly after. As far as they knew, Garcia was not expecting more visitors. It must have been reinforcements for the New Order, then. They all reloaded their weapons and prepared to kill anyone who stepped from the vehicle. It came to an abrupt stop behind the cowering attackers. The second the door flew open, a blade was sent from the darkness to slice through the throat of one man, then a second claimed another victim.

"You're shitting me," Revy groaned. She knew well who it was. As if they needed any confirmation, that tell-tale roar reached their ears, followed by the third and final man being torn apart by the teeth of a chainsaw. Shenhua and Sawyer sure made short work of the would-be intruders. And Lotton, as content to help in any way he could as ever, sat firmly in the driver's seat. The rest of them relaxed then. Fabiola uncertainly looked to the others before seeking reassurance from Pius. The priest nodded at her.

"It's okay," he said warmly. "They're friends. They're going to help us see this through. Right?" That was directed at the Wolf.

"Right," he confirmed. The bounty hunters had arrived to claim their reward after all. They would definitely be of some help, at least to Revy. This would be easier, now. Not only that, but Ashur seemed willing and able to help them. Any assistance would be welcomed at this point. Though, saying that, it seemed like they had the New Order running scared rather than the other way around, as expected. The group now assembled at the estate was formidable. Hawke would have a hard time getting out of this if they pulled off their plan. Lotton parked the jeep and the three bounty hunters made their way towards the gates.

"Hello in there!" Shenhua called, the volume and sharpness of her voice grating to their ears. "You open gate, yes? Otherwise we have to talk through steel bars." Fabiola unlocked the gates and let the three new arrivals in. They glanced around at the mismatched group before them. Shenhua immediately went to Revy. "Oh, you here to collect bounty too? Should have known smell of money would draw you out here!"

"You're one to talk, Chinglish," Revy teased her.

"Why don't you all come inside?" Pius asked them. Garcia would want to fill them all in if they were going to go on the hunt. They would also want to know about Hawke's arrival later, effectively giving them a deadline. Wolf turned as he prepared to head back inside the estate, with or without the others. The sight that met his eyes was Garcia, having emerged after the onslaught. He was pushing none other than Roberta, wheelchair-bound yet again. She had once again donned her black dress and crucifix. She looked good, better than the last time she had been in Roanapur. Back then, she had been a bit worse for wear and the exertion of taking on the Dead Men had truly taken its toll. But now, she looked almost peaceful. She was not poised to take on their enemies, nor would she be expected to. She could finally rest and let others do the work for her. To be honest, Wolf suspected she was okay with that. Despite her background, she never seemed to enjoy killing the way he or Revy did. It had been a necessity in the past and perhaps some twisted side of her made a game out of executing enemies, but the real Roberta, the one who had come to care so much about young Garcia, did not relish taking human life.

"Ah," Shenhua sighed upon seeing the maid. "Maybe we wait out here, yes?" Pius chuckled.

"Come on, you three. There should be plenty of room inside for all of you." They reluctantly followed Pius, then, as he walked passed Garcia and led them into the estate. Rock and Revy followed suit after a few moments, as did Ashur. They had plenty of time for introductions and explanations later. For now, it seemed Garcia had more to say to Wolf. The assassin was more concerned with the appearance of the Bloodhound. She placed her hand on the side of the wheelchair and struggled to her feet. She was unsteady, but she seemed to manage just fine otherwise. She offered a weak smile.

"It's good that you came," she said. She sounded confident, not as meek or unsure as Wolf expected. That pleased him. "I wasn't sure if you would be able."

"Sounds like I got here just in time. These assholes don't mess around." He gestured to the bodies, then, before looking at Garcia. "I'm ready whenever you are. Just give the word." Garcia nodded approvingly.

"Thank you, Wolf. I appreciate this. Just give me a few minutes to speak with the others." With that, he turned and headed back inside.

"I wish the Young Master did not have to endure this," Roberta said solemnly. "He is far too precious for such horrors." Wolf smirked. It was remarkable how selfless Roberta was when it came to Garcia. She cared about him a great deal. Should the need arise, she would gladly lay down her life for him.

"You should worry more about yourself," he told her. She looked up at him and frowned, confused. "That boy is fine. He's not the same kid that reached out to me for help against the Marchers. Hell, even back then he had the wisdom of a man twice his age." Roberta grunted in agreement. He had truly matured at an alarming rate, due in no small part to his exposure to the darker side of this world. Roberta clearly blamed herself in some regard for that. She probably would have preferred if he could remain immature and innocent forever. That may have been foolish, but it was also endearing. She loved him very much.

Roberta's eyes went to the bodies outside. Wolf did not know it, but her mind instantly flashed back to Roanapur, back when she had taken up the Bloodhound persona once more in search of the Grey Fox team. Her old allies had come after her and she obliterated them all. It was not a pleasant memory. She had taken up weapons since, but she had never lost her way nearly as much as that. It seemed her and Wolf shared a similar fate, unintentionally self-imposed. The ghosts of their pasts seemed intent on haunting them relentlessly. Wolf spotted her watching the bodies.

"They'll be gone soon," he told her. "There can't be too many more out there. They're not gonna bother your family anymore after today." Roberta hoped that was true, even if she didn't believe it.

"I hope you're right."

(*)

"Why are you here?" Garcia asked, taking a seat across from the others. Ashur cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"I've been looking for you," he said. "You are Master Lovelace, aren't you? Garcia Lovelace?"

"I am," the boy answered.

"The New Order have clearly taken issue with your family. I think we have a common goal." Garcia narrowed his eyes. None of them completely trusted Ashur yet, but they were willing to listen. "Word has it there's quite a bit of cash to be made from hunting them down."

"You're a bounty hunter?" Garcia asked. Ashur seemed to toss that question around in his head.

"Of sorts."

"Get in line, motherfucker," Shenhua spat. "You not only one here on hunt for New Order."

"There's only one of them I want," he elaborated. "Their leader, calls himself Hawke. I just want his head." That struck them as odd. And strangely specific.

"Why?" Garcia asked him.

"My reasons are my own," Ashur said evasively. "Suffice it to say he's wronged me in the past. That makes him an enemy of mine. And, by extension, it makes me a friend of yours." If all he really wanted was to kill Hawke, they might be able to accommodate him. They just needed to see through with their plan. After that, Hawke would be forced to arrive at the estate with only a token force. That would make him an easy target. When he showed, they could give him entry to the grounds. Then, the combined efforts of Fabiola, Pius and Ashur could wipe out what little backup he had with him. That would leave Hawke vulnerable. He would be at Ashur's mercy. Then, they could finally put an end to this. The end was so close they could almost taste it. "There is another thing."

"What is it?" Garcia asked him.

"I have allies," Ashur told him. "Friends who also have an interest in the fall of the New Order. They are in hiding. Just give the word and they will lend their aid." That would be useful, on the off chance that Hawke managed to bring a sizeable group with him to the estate later. This way, they could take the New Order by surprise and wipe them out. But, again, that was an odd detail. The question remained, who were these allies of his? It was possible he was working as an agent of the cartel, though he didn't seem the type. The F.A.R.C., too, seemed unlikely. Not only would they not randomly authorise one individual to broker an alliance with Garcia, but it was highly unlikely they would involve themselves in this matter at all. If they were going to hunt Hawke and the other deserters down, they were going to do it on their own terms. Still, time was wasting and the Lovelaces were in no position to refuse help. There was work to be done.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Dead Souls

They needed to act quickly if they were going to pull this off. It wouldn't be long until Hawke showed up at the gates with his people. Wolf had already left not long ago. Assuming he succeeded in taking out the members of the New Order nearby, that would hurt Hawke's efforts. After that, the rest would be left to Revy and the three tagalongs. This group had been formed for a while by the sounds of things; Pius made it clear that Hawke mentioned they had been training for almost a year during his meeting with the mysterious stranger at the bar. But there was one thing that put them at a disadvantage. Their numbers were made up of deserters and runaways from both the F.A.R.C. and the Colombian cartel. That alone put major limitations on any attempt to replenish their numbers. Because of this, the plan Pius and Garcia had put in motion would cripple their efforts. There would be no reinforcements, no contingency plan and no escape. If they managed to get Hawke alone, nobody would be coming to his rescue. Revy smiled at the thought. She had been less than content to come along to Venezuela but she had to admit this was going to be fun. It would be refreshing to go up against an enemy that would be practically incapable of retaliating. They would fall by her hand and she would be there to watch them crumble to pieces.

"I gotta say," she began roguishly. The room her and Rock were in was spacious enough for their needs. Rock was currently stood by the window, watching the grounds below. His eyes were unfocused and he wasn't exactly paying attention to what Revy was saying. She may as well have been talking to herself. "Taking the fight to these douchebags is gonna be fun. How many do you think will be there, fifty? Sixty? Hell, it doesn't matter. It'll be a piece of cake wasting them in their own little refuge. They ain't gonna know what hit 'em." Rock did not respond. Instead, he produced a cigarette from his pocket and stuck it between his lips, lighting it moments later. He assumed the Lovelaces would prefer if he didn't smoke, despite the fact that Garcia had not explicitly said so to them. But Rock did not care that much right now.

The flame from the lighter burned its light into his eyes for just a second before it was extinguished and his sight was briefly drowned in shadow. "And even fucking Chinglish dragged her annoying ass all the way over here just so she could be part of the shitshow. What a riot. Still, can't say I'm surprised. It ain't like her to pass up an opportunity to make a quick buck. Especially these days." Again, that was met with silence. Rock wasn't sure if Revy was trying to coax a response out of him or if she was genuinely thinking out loud. He hoped it was the latter. That way, he wouldn't have to half-heartedly contribute to the conversation. She must have noticed his silence then, prompting her to fall in beside him and pluck the cigarette from his mouth. "You gonna finish this?" she asked apathetically before taking a drag. It didn't look like she had any intentions of giving it back to him. "Hey, Rock. The fuck has you so spooked? You're not telling me these jackasses actually have you worried." They didn't. Rock knew as well as the rest of them that the New Order, as frightening and capable as they were, stood no chance against the force rallied against them. They were no Dead Men. No, there were other things that plagued Rock's mind, old forgotten things.

"I've been thinking," he began slowly. "There's a community in Denmark that was founded in the early 1900s. It originally began as a religious sect made up of farmers and former bishops. They settled down on an island off the coast of the southwest. According to the community's leaders, they practiced an unfamiliar form of Christianity. Their teachings didn't follow the rules of any church. In their mind, they were self-governed. But they were doomed from the beginning. They started out dedicated to teaching the way of the Lord, to practicing their religion in peace. That didn't last. By 1979, the bishops had gotten themselves involved with the wrong people. The Serb Mafia began moving in on the community. After that, everything they produced, everything they owned, belonged to them. A year later, one of the Mafia's representatives had taken over leadership of the community. They destroyed themselves from the inside out. Before 1986, the whole community had been turned into an extension of the Mafia's influence. I'd be surprised if it wasn't like Roanapur there now." Revy sighed.

"I hope you're going somewhere with this, Rock."

"Usagi told me Hunter visited the community," Rock continued. Revy started at the mention of the Chinese girl's name. "She overheard him recounting the tale to her father one night. I don't know if he was working with the Serb Mafia, but he apparently had business there of some kind. The community may have been run by criminals, but most of the people living there were sons and daughters of the original founders. A few had even willingly submitted to their new masters. One of them spoke to Hunter, told him that when the Mafia first arrived, they had seen fit to…well, let's just say it wasn't a seamless transition. The residents weren't treated with kindness. They spoke a mantra to give them hope during the worst of times, a quote from their revised bible. 'Døde mænd og døde sjæle.' It means 'Dead Men and Dead Souls.' They spoke that to each other as a comfort, Revy. They used it to get themselves through the worst times. They were so numb to the horror of their new world that they willingly accepted their fate. Their message of 'hope' to one another was a sentiment for the recently deceased." Revy did not interrupt. She might have at one point, but she held her tongue and allowed Rock to finish his story.

"What's your point?" she asked him at last. He finally looked up from the grounds of the estate below and met Revy's eyes, those curious, raw eyes.

"They already considered themselves dead, Revy," he told her. "They saw no point in fighting for a future anymore. They were dead souls. The walking dead. Just like Roanapur."

(*)

Roberta looked around her solemnly. She recognised this room well. The smell in the air, the colour of the walls, the large wooden desk. All of it was as familiar to her as it had been when she first stepped foot in here too long ago. This had once been the study of Diego Lovelace, the Young Master's father. Back then, he had been good friends with her own father. During a darker time in her life, she sought refuge here from those who pursued her relentlessly. The irony of the current situation was not lost on her. Rather than see her on her way and leave her to her business, he offered her a place in the estate. He knew what awaited her out there if she was to be on her way. And he was not content to let her resume the cat and mouse she had been playing with the people who wanted her dead. Were it not for his kindness, she may not be breathing now. And she would never have grown so close with Garcia. But that was some time ago. These were memories of a different time, of things long since set in stone. Diego Lovelace was gone. Dead and buried.

"Did you hear me?" Pius's soothing voice came. Roberta snapped out of it and looked across at him. He had seen fit to position himself in front of her. The window to her right looked down below to the estate grounds. The sight was quite beautiful. Roberta sighed deeply.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't hear you. Forgive me." Pius smiled at her. He was a gentle man, kind and understanding. Not only that, but he was a man of God. He had made it clear he was a devout believer and he prayed below in the garden during his visits. He fit in quite well here. But Roberta had of course been aware of his true nature. He was a killer like the others who had come here today. She could see it in his eyes the moment he arrived. When he first showed up outside the gates, it had been shortly after the Lovelaces returned from Roanapur once Godswrath had been dealt with. Then, he had been heavily wounded. Garcia brought him inside and allowed him to remain for a few days. He never explained who it was that had attacked him but he did assure the family they were in no danger. Roberta had seen parts of herself in the priest. Perhaps that was why she warmed to him so quickly.

After that, he had been returning to the estate monthly to meet with her. They spoke of many things; religion, crime, past experience. Their conversations had been almost therapeutic for the incapacitated maid. But recently he had been looking deeper into her past. He managed to learn about her exploits in Roanapur after she took up the Bloodhound persona once more in search of those responsible for Diego's death. Not only that, but she had opened up to him about her hallucinations. During that time, she began to see the image of one of her victims, an image that tortured her already strained mind. She met with the man's family to make her peace with what she had done. But guilt is an ugly thing. If left to fester, it can do more damage than any bullet.

"No need to apologise," Pius told her warmly. "I asked if you were sleeping well these last few weeks." In truth, she hadn't. It had only been just shy of a month since Hunter Woods had been killed and his organisation left in ruins. Roberta had a theory that being called out of retirement distracted her mind enough to effectively allow her to ignore any complex emotions she may have been feeling. During her down time, they began to resurface. But, again, the Wolf came calling once more to enlist her for a mission to hunt down an assassin named Black Bear. And so her mind was again occupied, something that afforded her some semblance of peace, despite the horrors of what had been happening in Roanapur at the time. However, after the business with the Dead Men had been concluded, a sense of finality came with their demise.

Left alone with her thoughts, Roberta had almost been driven mad. She had been forced to face the reality that her conscience weighed heavily on her. She saw faces in her dreams and images of death. Countless men, women and children that had been slaughtered in the name of revolution; members of the Grey Fox team, their bodies broken and lifeless; Kane standing over her, machete in hand; Lucille pacing up and down; Max Kepler's throat torn from him; Hunter Woods ready to end it all. Her mind was restless and corrupted with the things she had seen and done. She had started to come to terms with things after meeting the family of the man she saw during her rampage in Roanapur, but he had been one victim out of many.

"No," she answered Pius truthfully. He would know if she was lying, anyway. "I've been having dreams again. I see them all. Night after night."

"Of course you do," he told her. "That's what makes you human. That's how you know you haven't lost yourself. Hold onto that feeling, Roberta. It's what separates you from these other degenerates." She was not sure what to make of that. She could appreciate the sentiment, but it did little to help her beyond that. She would continue to see them at night. These feelings would not go away so easily. And considering she had been indirectly postponing a confrontation with her emotions, this may well have just been the beginning. Roberta had a long and harrowing path ahead of her.

"Thank you, Father," she told him weakly. "I feel better already."


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: The Social Call

There was a gentle knock on the door. Roberta had been absorbed in thought. As soon as the noise reached her ears, she came to attention, turning from the window and focusing her attention towards the door.

"Come in," she said hoarsely. She was not expecting any visitors. Perhaps it was Garcia checking up on her like he was want to do, or even Fabiola. But the man that entered was a stranger to her. She recognised him from below after the commotion had ended. Pius mentioned his name was Ashur and that he claimed he was a friend of theirs. According to him, he could be trusted. But he would say that either way. Roberta would reserve judgement until she had more information.

"I don't want to interrupt," he told her politely. That was unnecessary. She was alone, after all, and had been for the last hour and a half. She was waiting, now. For Hawke, for the New Order, for news of Wolf and Revy. They had been gone for a while now. Roberta did not believe they had come to harm, but the New Order would arrive at the estate soon. If they did not return soon, they would not be present during Hawke's arrival. Roberta was still unsure how that situation was going to play out. As it was, the former member of the F.A.R.C. would be allowed inside providing he showed up with only a skeleton crew. Otherwise, the smart thing to do would be to refuse him. Then again, in that scenario, he would probably see fit to knock the gates and force his way in anyway. Garcia had made it clear that after that, he wanted a chance to speak with the man. Or, more specifically, he was going to allow Rock to do the talking. That was why he had been called here. On the off chance they could dissuade Hawke from this fool's errand and spare lives, the boy wanted to do so. But that was doubtful. Only time would tell, though.

"It's no trouble," Roberta answered. "Please." She gestured to the seat across from her. Ashur came into the room and shut the door behind him, falling into the wooden chair that Pius had occupied not long ago.

"I'm sure you have questions," Ashur began. That was an understatement. His voice was calm but a tad scratchy. Every sentence felt like he had spent hours choosing the perfect words to say. His accent, too, was American. He did not strike Roberta as a native to either Venezuela or Colombia, though her instinct told her that he had some association with the cartel. Considering he had shown up in the sights of the New Order claiming to be an enemy of Hawke's, that seemed the most logical. Perhaps he was a bounty hunter under the employment of the cartel's leaders and he was hunting down their runaways. Or, due to his apparent distaste for Hawke, maybe his employers were the F.A.R.C. instead. He also mentioned to Garcia that he had allies standing by in Venezuela. That would imply a squad of his employers had accompanied him here. "I want you to know that I bear your family no ill will. We have a common goal, you and I. We both find ourselves at odds with Hawke."

"Does he wish you dead, too, then?" Ashur seemed to think about how he was going to answer that.

"Not exactly." That was a little too vague for Roberta's liking. "Hawke does not know me. When he arrives, he will not recognise me. I've been very discreet in my moves against his people. But he is no friend of mine, for sure." That was more of the same thing he had told Garcia, essentially. It still did not exactly shed much light on who Ashur was or why he wanted Hawke dead. Still, he seemed genuine in his desire to build trust, here.

"Has he hurt you so deeply that you bear no love for him?"

"In a sense," Ashur told her. "I can't exactly reveal such personal information, you understand."

"Anything you can share would help," Roberta urged him. If he was going to stay under their roof and expect them to trust him, he needed to cooperate. "If you truly wish to help us, explain yourself." He seemed to relent somewhat.

"Well, that's only fair," he began. "Suffice it to say that he crossed me. A while ago, he saw fit to target my people. They'd been after him for some time, you see." That seemed to suggest Ashur did indeed work for the F.A.R.C. in some regard. "He killed someone close to me. And he destroyed what we'd built together. After that, he disappeared. But I've managed to track him down. Now, all that remains is to bring him here so we can end this." That was something. So Ashur had been personally affected by Hawke's actions. The New Order had taken someone important from him and, in doing so, set him on a course for revenge. Roberta would be lying if she said she didn't understand what that was like. Ashur must have noticed her silence. He looked like he was prepared to say more but whatever he had been thinking was abruptly interrupted by Fabiola bursting into the room. She took a moment to catch her breath before looking to Roberta.

"They're here."

(*)

Garcia, Pius, Fabiola and Rock walked out to the gates to meet the New Order. Considering the others hadn't returned yet, it seemed like they had either failed to complete their assignments in time or they were still underway. They all stopped a few feet from the gate. Hawke took his rifle in hand and smashed the end of it off the iron bars as if to emphasise his impatience.

"I can't wait here all day, kid." That had been directed at Garcia. The boy looked behind the New Order's leader, spotting only a single car. He seemed to be confident enough to settle for a single vehicle of his people in case this did not go as planned. That was good.

"What if we refuse to let you in?" Pius asked coyly. "What if we leave you and your friends out there?" Hawke's eyes lingered on the priest for a moment. Pius was a target of the New Order, now, too, considering he had seen fit to kill several of their people. Hawke was not impressed by any of this. He rolled his eyes.

"I thought we had an understanding," he told them. "Either you let me in there, or we force our way inside and take what we want anyway." None of them made any move to comply, but Garcia and Fabiola did exchange a look. They were obviously scared, something that did not go unnoticed by Hawke. He sighed. "Alright, look. You're afraid, I get it. This isn't going to be pleasant for any of you. So, how about this? I'll leave my weapons and my people here. You open these gates, and I come in all by myself." That was more tempting. That way, if he made a move to kill Roberta, they could stop him. He would be helpless. Of course, it wasn't as simple as it sounded.

"Okay," Garcia told him. "We'll do as you say." He nodded at Fabiola, who unlocked the gates and opened them. Hawke dropped his rifle outside and stepped onto the grounds. He seemed ready to make his way inside before coming to a halt beside Garcia.

"Just one more thing," he said quietly. "I'm putting a lot of faith in you honouring our bargain, here. And it was pretty spineless to threaten to keep me out there after I made it clear I was going to show up here today. So, if any of my people hear gunfire, they'll be knocking those gates down and none of you will survive." Fabiola had been in the process of locking said gates again when she heard that. "And I don't want you to think they'll show mercy just because you two are kids. Because they won't. And neither will I. Now take me to these two."

They all started towards the interior of the estate, but Hawke's words hadn't gone ignored by Rock. He had been under the impression the New Order were here for Roberta, but it sounded like there was another they expected to come away with today. He exchanged a look with Pius. The priest knew that Rock had caught on. But there was nothing they could do right now. They made their way inside and Garcia reluctantly brought Hawke to his father's study. Hawke took a deep breath before resting his hand on the doorknob. He had been waiting for this day for a long time and the intensity of the situation was clearly very prevalent for him. He gently opened the door and spotted Roberta sitting in her wheelchair by the window. She was not facing them.

"I heard you speaking below," she said, presumably to New Order's leader. "You must be very proud of yourself. So, tell me, why are you here?" Hawke took a few steps into the room, coming to a stop before the desk between him and the maid. He was smiling openly at the sight of Roberta. Considering less than a week ago he had been expecting to be met with heavy resistance from the Bloodhound of Florencia, this was a very welcome change of pace.

"Oh, my," he muttered more to himself than anything. Roberta turned to face him. "Now, that is a sight to behold. I think it's safe to say you've seen better days, Rosarita. How does it feel, hm? How does it feel to be completely helpless against me? After all this time, your sins have finally caught up with you." Rock only noticed now that Ashur was not present. He had been under the impression that the newcomer had been with Roberta, but they had not seen him for a while. "Why am I here? Well, that's simple." His tone and expression grew much more serious, now. "I'm here for your head. You must have known this day would come. _But…_ " He turned to face Garcia, then, "…there's something not quite right, here. You see, I was promised the Wolf, too. I gave you plenty time to call your friend in, Garcia. So, tell me…where is he?"

"Why do you want him?" Rock asked, grabbing Hawke's attention.

"There are a lot of new faces here today," the man droned on. "And not one of them belongs to the Wolf. Pity. Well, asshole, it's like this. As it turns out, the information that led me to this moment didn't come cheap. There's another who wanted to make use of my services, someone who had a term he or she was very strict about."

"They wanted Wolf, didn't they?" Rock surmised. "They led you here and in return you're to bring Wolf to them." Hawke smirked.

"Not just an asshole in a crappy shirt after all," Hawke grumbled. "Right you are. I'd prefer to just put a hole in Rosarita's head right now, don't get me wrong. But I'm not about to go double crossing my partner, either. They made it clear that once Wolf is present, we have the go ahead to do what we want with Garcia's pretty little maid. But until then, I can't do shit. See, this guy or gal needs us. They need my people to help them get to the Wolf. So, once we turn the prick over to them, Rosarita's time is up. But it looks like Garcia is in the habit of breaking promises, isn't he?"

Hawke seemed like he might reach for the young boy for a second. He was likely tempted to throttle him for his lack of cooperation. But something stayed his hand. Instead, he took a seat by the desk and propped his dirty boots up on the polished wood. "Alright, Garcia. Since you don't seem to want to do what you're told, I'm going to put it this way. Until the Wolf shows up, me and my people are staying here. I mean, I've given you plenty of time already, so it doesn't really seem fair to just let you get away with this. No, you don't deserve that. So I'll give you one more day. Twenty-four hours. If the Wolf doesn't show in that time, I'm going to snap your maid's neck with or without the go ahead from my mystery partner."


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Betrayals

The gates of the estate were open when Wolf returned. He expected Fabiola to be keeping a close watch but it seemed she was content to neglect keeping them locked. Perhaps she was simply awaiting the return of Wolf and Revy. Then again, if Wolf had the right time, he had taken longer than he expected. The men gathered at the café were all dead, but they hadn't made it easy. It had taken much longer than it should have. Nevertheless, it was done now. Wolf was just concerned that he had missed Hawke's arrival. Not only that, but considering his goal was to eliminate Roberta, it was entirely possible he had done so. That was an unpleasant thought, one the assassin pushed from his mind.

As it turned out, his fears were unfounded. He rushed through the gates, gun in hand, only to be greeted by the sight of the Lovelaces ranged before him. That stopped him in his tracks. Fabiola stood to the right with two MAG 7s in her hands. She did not look pleased to see him. To the right, Pius stood with his Skorpion at the ready. He, too, shot the Wolf a look of disdain. And between them both stood Roberta, no longer in her wheelchair. Though she was standing, she did not appear as surefooted and confident as she once was. Regardless, she had an M1911 holstered at her hip. Her outfit, too, had changed. She now wore her old combat gear again, something that clearly bothered Wolf. He had been hopeful that she would remain relatively at peace, undisturbed and unneeded to take up arms again. She looked upset, if a tad conflicted. It seemed like they were expecting an attack from the New Order, but that did not explain their expressions. Something was very wrong. Garcia stood in front of Roberta. Once the assassin came to a stop a few feet in front of them, the boy cleared his throat.

"It's over, Wolf," he said calmly, but there was a slight edge to his voice, a tone that suggested he was annoyed, or perhaps angry. Wolf furrowed his brow and holstered his weapon as a show of good faith. Clearly, there was some kind of misunderstanding.

"What are you talking about?"

"We know what happened," Fabiola spat. "There's no use lying to us."

"We found out what really took place," Garcia went on. "At the café. We know what you did. I trusted you, Wolf. I thought you would help us, I thought you could keep my family safe. I thought you could stop them from taking Roberta." The more he spoke, the more passionate his voice became. He was losing his temper and his emotions were getting the better of him. Wolf was tempted to just let him vent, but he was wasting his breath. Wolf hadn't done anything wrong. This needed to be explained to him in full.

"Is this because I lied?" Pius asked, then. "I know I was dishonest when we first met. I didn't tell you that Hawke wanted you turned over to him, too. Maybe I should have been more honest with you. But that doesn't justify betraying us like this. I heard you'd protected the Lovelace family in the past. I was under the impression you cared about them. Clearly, I was wrong." None of them pointed their weapons at him yet, though Fabiola certainly seemed tempted to.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Wolf growled. He had been happy to let them explain the situation as they knew it, but they had given him frustratingly little information. He was getting irritated now. "What is it you think I did out there? Please, enlighten me."

"You didn't kill those men, did you?" The voice was Garcia's. "Pius outlined his plan to you. If you'd just done as we asked, maybe we'd be safe now. But you didn't."

"Hawke showed up while you were away," Pius told him. "He's been waiting for you. Ashur slipped out when he arrived to go after you. He wanted to bring you back in case the New Order decided to raze the place. He told us about his people, the ones he had standing by just in case. I don't know how you managed to track them down." Wolf was trying desperately to wrap his head around this. From what he gathered, they were under the impression that he had neglected to carry out his assignment and had instead taken out Ashur's associates. What still remained a mystery, however, was why they believed this.

"So, let me get this straight," Wolf began. "You think I went rogue, is that it? You all think I screwed you over." Their silence said it all. For whatever reason, they had taken Ashur's word on this. Wolf just wanted to know why Ashur thought this. Had the New Order orchestrated this, perhaps? Had the men at the café been Ashur's people, switched with the New Order's leaders once they learned of Wolf's assignment somehow? That seemed unlikely, but anything was possible right now. If that was the case, someone had moved to frame Wolf for this in a bid to turn the Lovelaces against him.

"Ashur lost contact with his people shortly after he left to look for you," Garcia explained. "He told us he confronted you outside the café. And that you shot him." Wolf almost laughed at the absurdity of that.

"Excuse me?"

"He is upstairs right now," Fabiola said. "Pius tended to his wounds. He is resting. How dare you walk back in here?!"

"We trusted you," Garcia repeated. "Why did you do this? Did _they_ convince you to work against us?" Wolf assumed he meant the New Order. "Did they offer to pay for your services in exchange for turning on us when we needed you?" Wolf did not answer. He remained absolutely silent, his eyes fixed on the ground and his face partially shadowed from view.

"Answer Master Lovelace," Pius commanded the assassin. "It's the least you can do." Wolf did not respond right away. Instead, he slowly moved his right hand until it was resting on the handle of his Desert Eagle. That movement was spotted by everyone but Garcia. Pius and Fabiola raised their own weapons in case Wolf made a move.

"Let me get this straight, then," the assassin said finally, his voice very low. "Ashur comes back with blood all over him and he tells you all that I've gone rogue. Then, you all buy his story right off the bat, offer him a lovely warm bed to sleep in, and wait for me to come back so you can put me in the ground?"

"Hawke brought the New Order's leaders with him," Pius explained. "They're still alive, Wolf. You were told to take them out." That explained a lot. The men in the café must have been Ashur's people, then. That, or they were expendable stand-ins hired specifically to frame Wolf.

"Well, that changes everything, doesn't it?" Wolf spat. "I went to the café, I killed the men meeting there. If they weren't the leaders you wanted dead, that's your fault, Pius. It was your shitty information, after all." The priest had no response to that. He swallowed, looking quite abashed that he had been so quick to blame the Wolf for this. "And if I'm being honest, I'm a little insulted you all took what Ashur said as fact and threw me to the wolves without a second thought. You really think I'd fuck your family over like that, Garcia? Fucking hell." None of them responded for a moment.

"You think Ashur was lying?" Fabiola asked, less sure of Wolf's guilt now.

"Bingo, princess," he mocked her. "Because I sure as hell didn't do anything wrong. Why don't you be a good little lamb and fetch him for me? Then we can all ask him ourselves." Fabiola was not sure how to proceed but Garcia nodded at her, signalling her to go and bring Ashur to them. Wolf did not make eye contact with any of them during her absence. Instead, he turned his back to them and waited.

"Wolf, I-"

"Save it, Garcia," the assassin interrupted him. "Let's hear it from Ashur. I've had enough of this shit already." Though the boy sounded like he wanted to say more, he held his tongue. This situation was tense. None of them wanted to speak unless it was necessary. They were happy to wait for Ashur so that they could get everything out in the open. Fabiola returned a few minutes later, but she was alone. Wolf shook his head disapprovingly.

"Our guest is not inside," she told them.

"What do you mean?" Garcia asked. "Last I checked, he was sleeping."

"I only treated his wounds less than an hour ago," Pius weighed in.

"Could the shots have slowed him down?" Wolf asked, swallowing his pride for a moment to help the situation if he could.

"No, not these wounds," Pius told him. "He had two shots, one in the shoulder and another in the hip. Neither one had done any serious damage." That was convenient. Wolf didn't want to jump to conclusions, but if this had been set up to turn the Lovelaces against the assassin, it made sense that Ashur would inflict non-lethal wounds on himself to make his story more convincing. Wolf spotted movement towards the interior of the estate, then. Upon noticing this, the others turned around. It was Hawke. He had been staying in the estate's garden with four other men. One of them currently walked alongside him, wearing a clean yellow suit and greasy, slicked back hair.

"Well, well, well," Hawke said enthusiastically. "Look who finally decided to show up. You took your sweet time getting here, I'll give you that. But that's not important. I'm just glad you could make it. Alejandro, you know the drill." The man in the yellow nodded approvingly before whistling. The other three then proceeded to disarm the rest and put them on their knees, Wolf included.

"What are you doing?" Garcia asked, very real panic in his voice. He was concerned from Roberta's safety. Now that Wolf was here, he presumably had authorisation to kill her. None of them wanted that to happen.

"I think it's obvious, don't you?" Hawke asked the boy. He took a walkie-talkie from his belt, then, and began to tune it. "This is it. The main event. I told you as soon as the Wolf arrived, we were going to put things in motion." He pressed the button on the side of the walkie-talkie, then, and spoke into it. "It's time. You can make your way here. Everything's set up for you." There was no response, but they all knew his message had been heard by whoever was on the other end. "I'd like to thank you, Garcia. You really pulled through, after all. I just hope you won't hold what happens next against me."


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: In Wolf's Clothing

The three New Order enforcers stood behind the Lovelaces with their weapons at the ready just in case any of them decided to try anything. Hawke and Alejandro were waiting behind the Wolf, their backs turned to him. Their eyes were on the gates, awaiting the arrival of whoever it was that had been called here. Soon, the one who wanted Wolf dead would arrive and he would be eliminated along with Roberta. They couldn't let that happen, of course, but they were all curious who this mystery person was. Wolf concluded that Ashur was an agent of this individual, having been instructed to set up the assassin and sew discord between him and the family. It had worked for only a few moments, but that was beside the point. They had more pressing matters, now. For example, it was now apparent that Rock was not present. He had been here when Wolf left but now it seemed like he was missing.

"Right on time." The voice belonged to Hawke. They all turned their attention towards the gates once he spoke. Indeed, a single black sedan pulled into the yard and came to a stop before Hawke and Alejandro. The windows were tinted, preventing them from seeing who was inside. Whoever was driving killed the engine. "I thought we were going to be here all night long, at this rate. Good to know I won't have to wait too much longer." Hawke was itching to kill Roberta, they could all tell. Even now, he was exercising remarkable restraint. Whoever his partner was, they must have been very clear that he was not to act until the Wolf had been turned over to them first. The door of the sedan opened and a man stepped out, one none of them recognised. He wore an impeccably clean suit and he was clean shaven. His skin was pale and clammy, and his hair had been cut neatly. He adjusted his tie before smiling at the scene before him, shutting the door of the car as he did so.

"My, my," he moaned. His words were calculated and precise. "Quite a job you managed here, Mister Hawke. I am impressed. You've really gone above and beyond."

"I was expecting your employer to be with you, Emmanuel," Hawke told him rudely. "That is why we're here, after all. If he's not going to show, then this was a huge waste of time." Emmanuel laughed.

"Have no fear, my friend. He is waiting in the car. This will only take a moment. Please, if you would, have your man open the trunk. What you find will interest you." Hawke gave the signal to Alejandro, who did as he was told. Once he had popped the trunk, he frowned and shot a glare Emmanuel's way.

"Who the fuck is this?"

"That is our leverage," Emmaniel explained. "Bring him here, beside me." Alejandro haphazardly grabbed whoever it was and lifted them from the car before shoving them to their knees beside Emmanuel. It was Rock. He had evidently been beaten and his hands, too, were bound behind his back. Alejandro reached into his jacket and produced an FN 5.7 calibur pistol, pointing it at the back of Rock's head. The weapon itself was white in colour and had an image of the Virgin Mary on the grip.

"I don't understand," said Hawke.

"They care about him," Emmanuel explained. "At least, one of them does. He was beaten to show just how serious my employer is regarding this matter. Should any of them see fit to try anything, your man is to kill him on the spot. That should be incentive enough for them to remain on their knees." As he finished speaking, the other door of the car flew open and another person emerged. "Lovelace family, Wolf, New Order…I'd like to introduce you to my employer. Master Ashur has been waiting quite some time for this moment. Please, let's not disappoint him." Emmanuel's words implied Ashur had been very secretive about his identity regarding this alliance with the New Order. Considering his first meeting with the Lovelaces took place moments after a shootout with some of Hawke's people, it was safe to say he had been banking on never having his identity discovered. That would have ended any such alliance. Considering Hawke did not appear particularly upset about Ashur's appearance, it was safe to say he was not aware of Ashur's role in the deaths of his people. The man who had orchestrated all of this stepped forward and took in the site in front of him.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet your New Order, Hawke," Ashur said smugly. He must have been loving the fact that he was getting away with playing both sides, here. If Hawke knew that his partner was so blasé about killing members of the New Order to build a false trust with the Lovelaces, he would likely not stand idly by during this. "You must be getting impatient."

"That's one way to look at it," Hawke grumbled. "We just want Rosarita, Ashur. After that, you can do what you like with these people."

"Just a moment," Ashur said quickly, almost cutting his associate off. "You'll get your chance soon. Be patient. For now, I have business to attend to." With that, he walked forward until he was just feet from the Lovelace family. None of them even looked at him. Considering they had allowed him into their home, their opinion of him had steadily plummeted once he stepped out of that car. "I'm glad you were so helpful, Garcia. Were it not for your cooperation, this wouldn't have been possible. I'm glad it didn't play out another way." They did not answer him. They were far too absorbed in thought regarding how easily he had infiltrated their home.

"What do you want from us?!" Fabiola demanded of him furiously. "Why have you done this?" Ashur regarded her curiously.

"I suppose explanations are in order," he began. "That only seems fair. Very well. By now, you've probably all come to the same conclusion. I wanted the Wolf. I knew of your connection to him, a connection I was eager to exploit. But, well, I'm just one man, after all. But then I learned about Hawke, about his New Order and their interest in your family, Garcia. That was my opportunity, my way in here to use you. So I brokered a meeting with Hawke. I sent Emmanuel to meet him and explain the situation. As it turned out, they were holding back. They didn't know about your maid's true condition. Well, I was willing to offer them my information. In exchange, of course, for their restraint. I still needed you, after all. So I had them instructed to order you to call in Wolf. That way, we could both get what we wanted."

His eyes fell on the kneeling assassin, then. "I preferred the idea of killing you myself, of course. But that didn't stop me from trying to turn your friends against you. I thought if I could convince them to kill you for me, Hawke could be on with his business and I could leave this behind me. I suppose that was too much to hope for. But it worked out, in the end. At least this way, I get to kill you myself." So Ashur had planned all of this. He needed them all at the mercy of the New Order so he and Hawke could kill Wolf and Roberta simultaneously. And now, they had the perfect opportunity to see that goal through. Still, they knew why the New Order were after Roberta, that much had been clear from day one, pretty much. But Ashur's stake in this was still quite mysterious. As far as they knew, he had no reason to want the assassin dead. There must have been some reason for him to go to all this trouble just for one man, a reason that surpassed money or glory. No, Ashur's reason for pursuing Wolf was much more personal, they could tell that instantly.

"I wish you hadn't wasted so much time." It took them a moment that the hoarse, cracked voice they heard belonged to Rock. Ashur turned to face the kneeling Japanese man.

"I didn't catch that," Ashur told him mockingly. "Say that again."

"You won't get away with this," Rock told him confidently. "You just wasted all that time and effort for nothing. You might have come out of this alive, Ashur. You might have been allowed to walk away in one piece. But that's not gonna happen anymore." Emmanuel's master did not take that seriously. Instead, he managed a chuckle, pointing at Rock as he did so.

"I think maybe we beat you around too much, kid," he said. "Because there's obviously a screw loose somewhere. This is happening, whether you like it or not. I just hope you have the good sense to stay down there. Otherwise, a lot of people are going to die." When he finished talking, he turned back to the others and came up in front of Wolf. He grabbed the front of the assassin's jacket with one hand, lifting him until he was almost at eye-level with the man who wanted him dead. Ashur seemed to take a few moments just to take all of this in. This was obviously a special moment for him.

"I can't believe I have you here. After all this time…you're finally going to pay, you fucking asshole." Without warning, he pulled back his right arm and sent a single meaty fist into the side of Wolf's face, knocking the assassin back to his knees. Ashur did not release the front of his jacket. Instead, he continued with the assault, unleashing another relentless punch. Then a third. The flesh around Wolf's left eye was already becoming raw. Ashur was not casually beating on him like he had done Rock, he was using calculated, precise right hooks to really do damage. And Wolf was feeling it. He was torn between that intense urge to counterattack, the survival instinct within him that screamed at him for not fighting back, and his desire to keep Rock alive and well. If any of them tried anything, the Japanese man would be killed and this would continue anyway. Before Wolf could even finish that train of thought, another punch rocked his senses.

"Just stop this!" Garcia screamed. "Leave him alone!" Ashur ignored him. Wolf tried to peel open his left eye only for it to be forcefully shut by another hard punch. He could feel red hot pain spreading through his face as his own blood trickled down to land on the ground below him. After this, the rest was mostly a blur to him. He could hear Ashur saying _something,_ but he couldn't make out any words. While Garcia's attention had been solely focused on the beating Wolf was receiving, it wavered as soon as Hawke cocked his rifle and came forward. This was it. He was going to execute Roberta. It had been long enough already and he was not a patient man. Garcia instantly came to his feet and stood in front of his maid, outstretching his arms as though to shield her from harm. He was aware that any interference may lead to Rock coming to harm, but he did not care. He would not let them touch Roberta. Hawke raised his rifle and began to slow his pace as he neared the Lovelaces.

"Get out of the way, kid," he said loudly. "I won't ask again." Garcia did not move.

"Stay back," he yelled. His voice was uncertain but far more confident than the others expected in this situation, considering what could still happen. "I won't let you hurt her!" Hawke seemed to think about his next move carefully. But he spent the better part of the last year waiting and hesitating and deciding on the best move. If he didn't act now, Roberta might escape his wrath. He let off a shot, one that caught Garcia in the shoulder. The boy was sent tumbling backwards onto the ground, blood flying from the fresh wound. They all instantly turned to see what had happened. Save for the Wolf, who appeared to be only moments away from unconsciousness. Roberta immediately scrambled towards Garcia and grabbed his shirt.

"Young Master!" she exclaimed, panicked. The shot had not been fatal. That was likely intentional on Hawke's part. He did not appear to wish any harm on Garcia if it could be avoided. But that didn't exactly reassure the rest that the boy would be fine. "Master Garcia, speak to me!"

"He's fine," Hawke told her apathetically. "Can't say the same for your friend, over there." Indeed, the Wolf appeared to have been knocked out cold. However, that hadn't stopped Ashur from wailing on him mercilessly. If he was allowed to continue his assault, Wolf would not survive. "Or you, for that matter. Your time is up, Rosarita. Say your fucking prayers, you fucking animal." He cocked the rifle once again as the others looked on. Rock was watching intently. But he was not concerned. No, he was smiling. He knew what was going to happen next, even if the New Order didn't. He had seen them moving in the estate's interior garden a moment ago. They must have snuck in elsewhere once they heard the commotion. Then there was the silhouette, followed by the moonlight glinting off of the Cutlass.

The first shot caught Alejandro in the chest, knocking him to the ground beside the car. Rock's life was not in any immediate peril, anymore. Revy had seen to that from the get go. Next, the brains of one of the three men behind the Lovelaces were splattered across the ground. After that, a blade flew from the shadows to cut down the second. And lastly, the teeth of Sawyer's chainsaw massacred the third man. Ashur instantly ceased his attacks and rushed back inside his car as an injured Alejandro crawled into the passenger seat. Hawke was the next one to duck into the back seat, followed by Emmanuel. Revy loosed off as many shots as she could, but they only served to shatter the glass of the vehicle's windows. None of the occupants sustained any further injuries. Instead, Ashur reversed out onto the road and took off away from the Lovelace estate. The New Order were gone. It was over.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: The Hunt Never Ends

The pain in Wolf's eye was the first thing he noticed as he woke, but it was not nearly as bad as it had been hours ago. It had begun to heal, naturally, though it probably looked much worse than before. It hurt to even attempt to open his eyes. The pain, combined with the sunlight that flooded over him, were making his morning rather unpleasant.

"Jesus, you look like shit." Wolf couldn't stop himself from laughing at that. He took a quick glance around the room, finally spotting Revy to the left of the bed he was on. Rock, too, was with her. The assassin's vision was partially blurred in his left eye. That would presumably cease to be in time, once the eye itself had fully healed. But for now, Wolf would just have to put up with it.

"Can someone close those fucking curtains before my other eye goes blind?" Rock went over to the window and did his best to keep the sunlight away from Wolf. "Jesus. How long was I out?"

"Almost fourteen hours," Rock told him. "Not bad, considering. Pius assured us you'd be fine. According to him, your eye could have been a lot worse." They didn't doubt that. Ashur seemed intent on killing the Wolf with sheer blunt force trauma alone. He could have just shot him. That would have made the entire ordeal much quicker. But Ashur wanted it to be personal and gritty. He wanted to really show how much he hated Wolf. The reason why was still a mystery. Wolf did not remember a whole lot before the third punch, but something told him he should be concerned for the others. Considering his memory was failing him, it was very possible that they had come to harm.

"Rock…what happened last night?"

"Your memory ain't that bad, Wolfy, is it?" Revy teased him. He was too concerned about the rest to even pretend to be entertained by that joke.

"The others," he continued. "They're alive, right?" Rock nodded, giving the assassin a massive sense of relief. He sighed loudly and relaxed in the bed.

"Everyone is okay," Rock told him. "Garcia took a bullet to the shoulder but other than that, he's doing okay. Pius is with him now. But the New Order's leaders got away." At least the Lovelaces were alive, that was all that mattered. "Wolf…how much do you remember?"

"I was…in and out," he told them aloud. "After he started really going to town, I basically black out completely. I could…I think I could hear him saying something but that's about it." Rock and Revy exchanged a look with one another when they heard that but it seemed to go unspoken that neither of them would say anything to the injured killer. He needed to rest, after all. Whatever it was they had on their minds could wait.

"So, you don't remember that it was me saving all your asses, huh?" Revy prattled on. "Fucking typical. Not even a 'thank you.'"

"Well, you're being humble about it, that's the main thing," Wolf joked sarcastically. Truthfully, he did appreciate that. He just didn't tell her that. Had she and the others not come to the rescue, he would probably be dead right now and the New Order would have gotten away with what they had done. For that matter, Roberta would probably have been executed too. "What did you find out there? In the countryside?"

"Whole lotta those fuckers," Revy explained. "They had themselves a whole campsite. There must have been fifty of them, ready for fucking war." Wolf guessed that they had all been killed. That thought pleased him greatly. Not only did it eliminate any immediate threat to the Lovelaces, but it also meant that the New Order's leaders would have no reinforcements to call on should they decide to finish out their goal at any point. If the majority of their forces had indeed been wiped out, only three of them remained. While Ashur had not technically been a member, he was as good as in this situation. This would have hurt them. Even if they did want to mount another assault against their enemies, they did not have the manpower, resources or confidence to do so right now. For that reason, they would more than likely go into hiding. But it seemed unlikely that they would give up on this altogether. The fact remained that they were still out there. Somewhere. Wolf weakly dragged himself into a sitting position on the bed, bracing his back against the headboard.

"Pius told us about what happened," Rock began, then, breaking the silence. "He told us what Ashur did, that he set you up. He tried to turn Garcia against you. He wanted them to kill you. He thought their paranoia might force them to do something they'd regret later. I'm glad it didn't come to that, but that can't have been a fun encounter." That was putting it mildly.

"It wasn't the best, no," Wolf told him. "They were ready to blow my head off when I walked through those gates. That was tense, I'll admit. Still, they had their reasons." The other two were silent for a moment.

"Really?" Revy asked, apparently in disbelief of how forgiving Wolf was. She was certainly one to hold grudges. "That's it? They bought Ashur's bullshit story with nothing but his word to go on and you're just gonna let that slide?!"

"Well, what do you want me to do, Revy, put another bullet in Garcia? What's done is done. I don't have the energy to be bothered with it." They decided not to argue with him about it. He had a point, after all. It was over now, everything had turned out okay, for the most part. All that was left now was to pick up the pieces and move on.

"We should let you rest," Rock said gently. Wolf suspected that was an attempt to interrupt any possible outburst from Revy, but she seemed content to let it be. He opened the door, then, to be met with Roberta making her way towards the room. She came to an abrupt stop when she spotted Rock and Revy about to leave.

"Out of the fucking way, Glasses," Revy snapped as she waltzed passed the maid brazenly. Roberta did not seem to have the energy or interest for a confrontation, allowing the gunslinger to continue on her way unhindered. Rock nodded meekly by way of an apology before following Revy. Roberta came into the room, then, and slowly closed the door behind her. Her walk was not as confident or coordinated as it once had been. Now, each step seemed as though it had to be planned carefully so she didn't accidentally trip. But she appeared to be managing just fine as she proceeded over towards the window and took a seat on the bed next to Wolf. She seemed jaded, as though this whole ordeal had been particularly straining for her.

"The men that came here escaped last night," she started solemnly. "After your friends arrived, Ashur took the survivors and left the grounds. We do not know where they are." Wolf did not care that much right now. As long as they stayed away from the estate for the time being, he could live with that.

"At least nobody died," he reminded her. "It could be a lot worse. I'm just glad you're safe." His words managed to pique her interest. "All of you." That was a sloppy save. It was not a lie, however. He was genuinely pleased none of the Lovelaces had been killed. The cards had certainly been stacked against them last night. "Rock told me Garcia took a shot."

"Yes, he did. Hawke came for me. He wanted to finish this at last. But the Young Master…he would not let that happen." Roberta clutched the crucifix around her neck and sighed. "He could not bear the thought of losing me. For a moment, I feared the worst. I feared he had come to more harm than he had." Though Roberta was composed as she said this, it was obvious the mere thought of Garcia in danger terrified her. She could not stand the idea of anyone hurting him in any way. She turned to the Wolf, then. She looked melancholy as she worked up to saying the words that next escaped her lips. "There is something I must confess, Wolf. On behalf of the Lovelace household, I owe you and apology for how we greeted you yesterday." Wolf held a hand up to stop her.

"No, forget it," he told her.

"Excuse me?"

"It's alright. Look, that was a hell of a stressful day. None of us were thinking clearly. You guys…well, you had every right to be paranoid. You were just being cautious. So, yeah, it's fine. Water under the bridge." He did not necessarily consider that unreasonably forgiving. After all, his words were true, it had been a very stressful, emotional time for Garcia and his family. Had he not been as overcautious, Wolf would have considered him foolish. He did not expect an apology of any form from any of them, despite the harshness of his words last night. "I, uh…I didn't expect to see you wearing all that again." Roberta looked down at her outfit once he said that. The white sleeveless shirt and weathered black trousers that Wolf had seen her wear too often made up her combat gear, the ensemble she donned during missions and assignments, even now. It was already a source of annoyance and distress to the assassin that she had been called out of retirement on his behalf, even more so now that she had seen fit to don the outfit again.

"I felt it was necessary," she muttered. "When we believed Ashur's story, I expected the worst. I wanted only to protect the Young Master from danger."

"But you shouldn't need to," Wolf told her. She looked up at him and his eyes met her own remaining one, a brilliant blue colour. There was a warmth and gentleness to her gaze as it fell on him, not that sharpness and alertness that so often accompanied the glances she gave her enemies or even other killers. "You were supposed to stay here with your family. After everything, you could finally have a life. You shouldn't need to bear arms again, not after everything you've been through." She turned her body towards him so she was facing him as he spoke. "It's just…I never wanted to come back out here after Lucille. I wanted to just leave you alone. Even when I asked you to go after Black Bear, I didn't want to. You shouldn't have been put in danger on my account. Your family shouldn't-"

He seemed to cut himself off, sighing with exasperation when he realised he had no more to say. The last day had been incredibly taxing. He just had a lot of emotions pent up inside him that he needed to vent. Roberta reached her arm out slowly and placed her hand on the back of his head, pressing her forehead to his as he breathed deeply. They were both exhausted. All they wanted to do was rest, to forget everything that was happening. But that would be irresponsible considering Ashur, Hawke and Alejandro were still alive. They would come for their targets again in the future, however long it took to put their plan into action.

"You are very troubled," Roberta spoke quietly. "You are too concerned for me. I have seen and endured what this world has to offer me for too long. You need not worry yourself so much." Wolf had no answer for her. He could not help his concern, but he did not know what to tell her, either. So he said nothing. He just continued breathing, his eyes shut tight and that pulsing pain in his eye one of the only things distracting him from the predicament they found themselves in. "We will prevail through this," Roberta continued. "They will not hurt us. With all of us, together, they won't stand a chance. I assure you."

"I hope you're right," he told her quietly. They had a long, winding road ahead of them, that much was certain. But for now, they had no obligations, no other business to see to. So they remained there, together, revelling in the silence, the calm before the storm.


End file.
